Turn, Smile, Shift, Repeat
by sodapoppp
Summary: From Day 1, the day they came to the Institute. Enter the New Recruits. (CH 8: Disposable Parts) “KILL YOU." - Jubilee Lee, the girl with the big yellow trenchcoat. Kind of resembles Madeline the Brave French Schoolgirl, come to think of it. Huh. Odd.
1. This Is Where I Came In

Turn Smile Shift Repeat

A/N: I really should be working on my Valentine's Day fic. But I am a bum, and a sad one at that, so I am doing the wonderful art of PROCRASTINATION! Weeeee! Title is derived from the Phantom Planet song, just in case there are bored lawyers out there looking to sue innocent little people…ho hum. 

Disclaimers: If I were in charge of Marvel, I would have Pietro running around in pink spandex with a walkman singing along to the soundtrack to Mariah Carey's 'Glitter'. Alas, woe is me, for that will never happen. DAMN! 

_"What's up with Rico Suave? Didn't he notice that someone was talking to him?" _

_– a jealous Ray Crisp _

_This is the danger zone  
This is where I came in  
They know not what they do  
Forgive them of their sins  
They know they cannot take away  
What you have given me  
  
Ohh, ohh, ohh  
This is just where I came in_

- The Bee Gees

**Chapter 1: This Is Where I Came In**

"No."

"Aww, come on, why not?"

"No."

"But -"

"No."

"But -"

"No."

Logan grit his teeth. "Will you two _shut up_?"

The low, feral growl did just what was asked and silence spread over the van. Logan sighed in relief, and chanced a glance at the mirror to the back seats. What he saw satisfied him – the Brazillian boy, who hadn't even said his name when they met him at the plane, was sitting in his seat all stiff and squat, his dark eyes cast to the ground with a deep-set frown etched on his face. Next to him, on the window seat, was the New York-bred kid. His head was lolled back onto the seat, so his eyes were glued at the ceiling of the X-van, but sure enough, the glint of his earring was caught in the mirror's light. Logan narrowed his eyes – he had a feeling he wouldn't like _that one_, just from that. Call it instinct. On the other side of the Brazillian boy was the tall one, with Rogue's accent and Lance's hair. He looked a bit squashed, with his long arms awkwardly in front of him. Also, it had to be accounted that Rob, or Bob, or whatever from Boston had finally tired out from babbling like a mad chatterbox early in the trip and had fallen asleep on the Southern kid's shoulder, with a teensy bit of drool slipping out of the corner of his mouth. Logan skillfully covered his snicker and moved his eyes a bit to examine the youngest two in the car, the Oriental California girl and Jordan – or James – or something of the like. These were the two that had been squabbling and silenced minutes earlier by Wolverine. He wasn't sure what it had been about…something about powers, he believed. The kid had been pestering about it, or using it, and the girl had determinedly ignored him and stared out the window. What was her powers – it was something that resembled Cyclops', he recalled. Logan smiled grimly – the girl had been smart in ignoring him, because if her power was anything like Scott's, there would've been hell to pay for the van and for his anger. 

That would be all of them. Logan returned his full attention to the road, until he noticed a certain someone pouting in the passenger seat next to him. Ah, her. The Novan Roma or something girl – no, _princess._ She had put up quite the fuss at the airport, screeching about how there was no one to carry her twenty-or-so bags. In the end, Logan had all the boys, including the youngest boy, grab as many suitcases as they could, and Logan swept up the last 5 easily, leaving the lightest suitcase for the princess to carry. Outraged, she thrust it towards the Asian girl. Obviously, she had chosen the wrong person, as the dark-haired girl merely stared at her with mild amusement and incredulity. The young royal was miffed, but tired enough to stop screeching and trudge along with a glowering expression on her painted face. 

There'd certainly be a couple interesting situations at the Institute due to her, Logan could predict. Especially considering some of the backgrounds that some of the other children in the van came from, having heard from Charles. 

The car halted to a stop, and many of the kids hurled the doors back and jumped out with glee. And some of them, like the punk kid with the earring, and California girl, turned around, saw the mansion, and their eyes bulged. Whereas Princess Aguilera-or-someone tutted and flipped her hair, obviously unimpressed. Logan noted this with a cynical grin – oh, yes, things would certainly get more interesting around the house now. For some odd reason, he was happy about this thought. 

The first thing that the New Recruits noticed was a reddish brown furred dog leaping out from the doors of the Institute, yipping gleefully. Jamie Madrox laughed and pointed at the sight.

"We have a dog? My parents never let me have a pet at home!" Jamie said happily, to no one in particular. As it happened however, Jubilation Lee was the closest one standing near him, and could hear this the loudest. She shut her eyes in a painful grimace.

Sam Guthrie smiled and looked around sheepishly. "Er, ah, ah'm kinda…" he stuttered, and Logan eyed him impatiently. "What? Get it out." Logan barked.

"Ah'm allergic ta dogs." Sam sounded embarrassed. To Sam's surprise, Logan started laughing, and the jet lagged children stared at him curiously. 

"That's no dog, bub." Logan said, and to Sam's transfixed utter shock, the 'dog' quickly morphed into a 14-year old grinning redhead, with two high pigtails fixed in her short hair. 

"Name's Rahne, boy-o. Nice t'meet ye." She said brightly, with a thick Scottish accent. Too stunned to speak, Sam gave a shaky nod. 

"Her power's to transform into a wolf, Haystack." Logan said gruffly, and Sam flushed at the light-heartedly formed nickname. "Not a dog. You might've offended her a bit with that comment." 

But the girl named Rahne waved Logan's words off. "Nay, 'tis fine, boy. Or what was it? Haystack, Mister Logan called him? Why would tha' be, that, eh?" She squinted her eyes curiously. "Can ye…turn into hay?" 

Sam burst into laughter. "No, no, 'course not." He said. "Ah can…well, ah basically fly into things and crash." 

"Too true." Logan commented from the van's trunk, where he was unceremoniously throwing out the suitcases and bags one by one. One of them, a frilly pink one that had to be Amara Aquilla's because it had a fancy AA in calligraphy on the handle, landed with a thud, and Amara turned red-faced with fury at how it was handled, but kept her mouth clamped. 

"What is too true? Please tell me nothing went wrong during the trip, Logan." Professor Xavier wheeled into the front of his Institute, doing his little steeple hand thing and surveying each of the kids with genuine interest. Logan replied with a vague "Eh.", and yet another suitcase flew out to land on the growing pile on the ground. The professor arched an eyebrow, and Ray coughed, stepping forward a bit. 

"Um…it was me." He said, a bit embarrassedly. "I thought it'd be funny if I stuck my foot out and tripped Sam, until I found out what his power was… and, well, he basically crashed into one of the planes and made a dent shaped like a Sam Guthrie." 

Rahne and the Professor began laughing, and the others looked at each other, surprised at their reactions. Ray awkwardly stood in front of them all, and the Professor smiled warmly. "It's quite alright, Mr. Crisp. You took care of it of course, Logan?" He said seriously to the man, his head disappeared inside the van. "Yeah, yeah." Replied Logan, and a rusty brown backpack soared out. Ray scrambled to catch it, and nearly had to dive for it when it landed in his hands near the grass.

"I must say, I expected something of the sort to happen. In fact, an incidence like this _did_ happen before, not too long ago." The professor said. Logan nodded. "The Tolensky kid."

Once again, the new recruits exchanged curious glances, and Logan shook his head. "You'll hear more about the likes of him and others later. Right now, get your stuff. Ororo should be coming to tell you where you're rooming." 

As if on cue, Ororo walked outdoors in her graceful, long strides. She wore a colorful array of skirts coupled with a plain white shirt, and tropical shades of make up that should never be matched together on the same palette. Yet, somehow, on Ororo's dark, wise face… it worked.

There was something about Ororo Munroe that made you relax into a calm. Maybe it took a little more, and you needed to hear her soothing voice to wash you over into relaxation, but that was just the kind of person she was – you could even call her the motherly type, though was she was still young as a woman, in her late twenties, early thirties…somehow, the students had never gotten the courage to ask, though they constantly pestered Logan for his age, which drove the man insane.

"Hello, students," She smiled at them. "I am Ororo Munroe."

There was a dramatic silence, and Ororo laughed lightly. "You needn't be so solemn about it. I'm not like Logan over there. I'm the instructor that everyone here _likes_." As a reply, a yellow duffel bag flew out twice as far from the X-Van and with twice the amount of force. 

"Nice distance." Bobby whispered. Jubilee caught it with impressive ease, showing off athletic skill for such a short, scrawny girl. "Good catch, gal!" chirped Rahne, and Jubilee flushed and grinned with pride.

"I'd like for you to just ask them to drop off their luggage, and then gather in the living room. We've never had such a large group all at once, and there's much to be done today." The Professor told Ororo, who nodded. "Follow me, please." Ororo said in a serene voice. She turned around to walk up the steps, and everybody grabbed their bags to follow her, until an infuriatingly dominant sounding 'ahem' reached the African goddess' ears. She coolly turned around to see Amara tap her shoes impatiently. 

"Yes, dear?" Ororo asked demurely. 

"My _bags_?" Amara motioned to the 23 bags in the pile Logan was making, and counting. Now 24. 

"Your bags…well, might as well get them out of the way." With a flick of her wrist, 8 or so suitcases rose from the makeshift mound of bags and floated upwards. One of them came close to Amara's head, and she shrieked, ducking down to avoid it. 

Meanwhile, Bobby, Ray, Roberto, and Jamie gaped open-mouthed at her. She eyed them back with an amused look. "Is there something wrong, boys?"

"Y..you...telekinesis!" Bobby choked. 

"Eu estou indo viver com uma bruxa!" Roberto muttered. [1] Ray nodded. "Yeah, what he said!" Ororo grinned. "No, I don't have the gift of telekinesis. I'm, simply put, a weather witch. I can use the wind to lift things around me." 

"Are you going to use the wind to lift up my other 19 suitcases?" Amara demanded. 

"No, that would clutter up the hallway. We can ask Scott or Kurt to do it later." Ororo replied mildly. Amara merely 'hmphed' and grabbed her smallest bag. 

"I'll help ye!" Rahne bounced over towards her, but Amara shifted the suitcase from her. "I won't have filthy paws that's been all over the floor holding my luggage, thanks." Amara said imperiously, her nose high up in the air. Rahne raised an eyebrow, but shrugged it off. "Fine, then, lass. I'll just go to the bathroom and lap up some from the toilet – I'm a bit thirsty, now." There was some snickering at this, and Amara whirled to see exactly who was tittering, but silence fell the moment she turned. 

"Let's go see what home looks like now, then." Amara gritted her teeth and stomped forward directly behind Ororo. Logan and Charles exchanged amused looks, until Jubilation looked around confusedly in her spot inbetween Jamie and Bobby. "Who's Scott and Kurt?"

One by one, the young mutants trudged up the stone steps and through the glass doors. They could see the grand staircase clearly displayed, and some of the statues and paintings on the walls. Bobby let out a low whistle, and nudged Ray behind him. "This Xavier dude must be loaded something big, huh?"

"Yeah." Ray muttered, staring down at his tattered sneakers. 

"Why looking so glum, cutie?"

Ray looked up at the sound of the coy, teasing voice. And that was the first sight of the inside of the Institute that Ray received an eyeful of – a tall blonde girl, wearing very, very tight jeans, a large amount of a make-up, and revealing a fair amount of cleavage with her shirt that made Amara later declare her to be a 'brazen woman'. Unfortunately, the goddess was speaking to the – err, what was his name again? Ray perused through his memory. The Brazilian kid…Rodriguez or something like that.

Of course, Roy-or-somebody only looked up from the ground he had been so intently staring at and gazed at her with his smoldering dark eyes. The girl chewed a bit and blew a pink bubble, which popped in his face. He didn't even blink. Amara hemmed and hawed impatiently, but the blonde completely ignored her. Ororo cleared her throat. "Tabitha, you're welcome to introduced yourself to each of the new students while I take them to their rooms. But please, lets keep on moving and make progress." Tabitha merely nodded and the group began walking up the stairs, with Tabby walking closely with Roberto, who still hadn't replied to her and seemed determined to ignore her.

"Strong, silent type, eh? I like that in my men." She gave a small squeeze at his arm, and suddenly he blushed, turning his head aside, walking faster to leave her behind. Tabitha gave a loud, unrestrained laugh and weaved her way through to Jubilee. They immediately launched into some kind of girl talk that Ray couldn't be bothered to interpret, so he turned his face to Bobby, who was watching the two girls as well. "What's up with Rico Suave? Didn't he notice that someone was talking to him?"

Bobby's eyes came into focus as he blinked and realized Ray was addressing to him. "Huh? Oh, you mean Roberto. I don't think he really likes any of us, man." 

"What do you mean?" Ray asked curiously, unable to help himself. 

"Something about against his will. I took Spanish in school last year, and caught bits of it in his super speed. He was muttering about 'leaving in the worst time' and 'she needs me' and stuff." Bobby shrugged.

Ray sighed and looked around. The youngest kid, Jamie, was talking shyly with the ever friendly Rahne, while Roberto had shrouded himself to the side of the hall they were walking down. The princess chick, Amara, was walking next to Ororo while observing the doors they were passing with a frown. Tabitha and Jubilee were chatting away animatedly like firecrackers. With a start, Ray realized that Sam Guthrie had been walking awkwardly, but closely behind himself and Bobby (who had resumed gawking at two oblivious girls). Unlike Amara, he was looking around at his vast surroundings in awe with a mouth open, and Ray snickered, visualizing very well a piece of straw hanging at the corner of Sam's gaping mouth. 

"Like, KURT!! GIVE THAT BACK!!"

Bobby jumped backwards at the sudden shriek, accidentally trampling Sam's feet. Amara looked around her with an alarmed look, and clutched her bag towards her chest closer. The weather witch only sighed, as a brunette wearing a lot of pink suddenly appeared out of nowhere – or rather, through the wall – and through the opposite wall. Distantly, they heard a voice with a thick accent and a teasing tone. "Let's see what ze love note says, ja? Oh, _Lance,_ mein herz beats faster every time I see you and your handsome face. I know you hang out with icky zug guys as friends, but it doesn't matter to me! All I know is zat vhen you and I are together, I know zat nothing could ever break us apart! You have zese beautiful brown eyes that I could gaze into forever, and lips zat make me – GAH! Aua! Die Schmerz[2]!" 

"Kurt, you are such an idiot! Now there's FUR on it!!"

Amara looked alarmed. "What does she mean? Does this Kurt have a dog? I simply can't _stand_ animals-"

"Ye best watch your tongue and not finish that sentence, gal, or I'll get ugly on ye." Rahne warned. Amara whirled on her, eyes flashing. "Is that supposed to be some kind of _threat_, you – you plebeian??!" Rahne began laughing. "Plebeian? This wont be the 17th century, lass. You needn't be so prissy and boorish."

Suddenly, Amara's eyes really _were_ ablaze, as was her hands, that radiated heat to an intensity that her hands were glowing with a dim orange tinge. Rahne jumped back, alarmed at the sudden reaction, and Jamie clutched at Ororo's skirts. 

"Please calm down, Amara, Rahne. We don't have time for this." Ororo chided, and briskly walked on. Amara gave Rahne a dark look, and primly stuck her princess nose up in the air. Rahne blinked, still surprised, and gave a tiny jump when a large hand rested on her shoulder. It was Sam. He bent down to her height, which was quite short for a 14-year old, and pointed. "If ah'll be danged. Look'ee at her bag handle. It's been all melted." Sam whispered in her ear. Rahne looked, and indeed, the pink handle that Amara was tightly gripping had melted around in her hand frame. 

Before Rahne could reply to the Southern boy in earnest, Ororo halted and Jamie ran into her. She opened the door, and inside was a clean, plain room, with two beds and flowers as a centerpiece on the desk. "This will be Amara and Jubilation's room." Ororo proclaimed. Some silence filled the air, and was ultimately broken when Ray doubled over laughing, and Bobby clutched his stomach in pain/laughter. Even Rahne was giggling a bit, Sam grinned, and Tabitha smirked. 

"Who – on earth – would name their child -" Bobby tried to gasp, and Ray finished for him. "-**Jubilation**?" Ray choked. But he needn't have asked. Sparks were flying out from the one named Jubilation's hands, and her eyes, while not containing the scarily authentic flames of Amara's, were still blazing. She clenched her hands. "My mom named me that. But everybody calls me Jubilee."

Nobody was really listening, so Jubilee marched over and grabbed Ray's shirt. Everyone's breath caught, and it was really a rather funny sight, because Jubilee was about 5 feet and Ray was 5'7", but Jubilee snatched a bundle of his shirt and pulled his face down to her level anyways, so it was still intimidating, sort of. She raised her hand, which was sparking with a strange, colorful energy, and looked as if she were about to pour some of that color down Ray's shirt, but Ororo intercepted once again. 

"Jubilee," Ororo said sternly. Immediately, Jubilee released her hold on Ray and turned away, embarrassed at her outburst. But even after Amara and Jubilee had moved 12 bags and one duffel bag, respectively, into the room, as Jubilee left the room she stuck her tongue out at Bobby and Ray. 

tbc

A/N: I seriously had to stop there, because this file was losing space and my computer went wonky on me so I nearly lost about 10 of the last paragraphs you see above you FOREVERRR!! Rejoice that it didn't. Or curse the gods. Whatever swings for you. It's an odd place to stop, but oh well. I'll have the next chapter up and running soon! 

[1] Translates from Portuguese: "I'm going to be living with a witch!" Ah, the greatness and power of all that is Babelfish. I was watching my recorded tape of 'Retreat', and noticed something. Roberto is a stud. Not that that has anything to do with this fic… oh wait, it does. 'Berto's cool, and will actually get more than 5 speaking parts, unlike the actual series. 

[2] Roughly translates from German: "Ow, the pain!" For some reason, the thought of Kurt saying this makes me giggle.


	2. Welcome To Paradise

"Well, I must admit, tha' was a bit freaky."           

                        - Rahne Sinclair

**Turn Smile Shift Repeat**

A/N: WooT! You guys rock! Soo many reviews, and I didn't even plaster ROMY! ROMY! ROMY! all over the summary! ^^; About all of you noted the lack of good New Recruits characterization, whether it be canon or on this very site. Yeah, that fact makes me sad too – but if you guys are up to a long fic and loooots of NR angsting/characterization, I highly suggest you read some of Scribbler's work. Hot DAMN her stuff is good. Her story 'Tapestry' is SCARY good, and is in the Favorite Stories section of my profile. Thanks, and let them eat cake! 

            ~*~Reviewer Response~*~

Maxine-chan – Woo hoo! You're the first reviewer! That means you get…err, more cake! A broke authoress has got to improvise from time to time. Anyways, thanks very much for the review!

PomegranateQueen – Yeah, they meet everybody in this chapter. ^^ Fwee hee! FUN!!! 

Risty – Hooray for Roberto! In fact, hooray for all of the hot cartoon characters in this show! I don't CARE if its weird to think a cartoon character is hot, HE IS!!! Oh…and hooray for the pixie sticks I downed to get into a hyper mood!! If not for them, I would never have posted up this chapter this soon!

mendari – Out of curiosity, if Berto's your 2nd, then who's your 1st? Myself, I can't pick a favorite. Though I do have these 'moods' I get into by weeks. Last week, it was the Boomster, and this week I was in a Ray mood. You can't tell in Chapter 1, because I tried to keep it as unbiased as possible. Oh, and a JUBBY fan! I FOUND ONE OF YOU!!! 

Caliente – Sigh. I am such an idiot. I can't believe I FORGOT that – and my friend reminded me about that last week too! Well, thanks for clearing up my blunder; I promise I won't do it again. And yes, I know Roberto is from Brazil. I kind of…wrote that. o.O? It's just, I mixed up the languages. *thwaps self* Mrr!

Dark Jaded Rose - Glad ya like it. The lack of New Recruit stories? – sooo true. Which is why I'm writing this fic. Thanks for reviewing!

animeluvr1 – Heheheheheh… mebbe I should've warned you guys about this sooner, but... I'm a scarily huge Kurt/Kitty shipper. So beware. Along with all the Jubby (tee hee! I love that name!)/Sam x Rahne/Pietro x his sexy self/etc. No worries – this is continuing, for sure.

rain – DOOD! You think Roberto's a stud too?! WE SHOULD FORM A CLUB, GUYS! Seriously! It'll be called 'Roberto Is a Sexeh Stud Along With Other Evo Guys' Club! We'll have meetings discussing how inexplicably sexeh Roberto is. Although…oh no… it might clash with my 'Elijah Wood Is a Sexpot' Club and 'Pietro is a sexy, fruity little boy' meetings. Dear me.

Camille – Wow! Somebody out there actually appreciates and LIKES my sense of humor!!! IN YO FACE, people! WOOT! 

Zoken – One other one like this…? *gets her lawyer just in case* You can never be too careful.

cxigner – And _I just love how fics unite people with similar favored couplings. Mwee hee… WOOT for Ray/Tabitha-ness! _

SkyDancerHawk – New Mutants fics rock, dood. I wish people would realize that and stop with all the OC/Mary Sue madness and write stuff with New Recruits more! Thanks for reviewing.

The Rogue Witch – Oooh, I know! He looked all half-asleep and stuff, but he was STILL sizzling. With rain out. Hmm… I know there's a pun in there _some_where… I find that he's sexiest when the sun is out, and he's all black and orange-y and his face makes him look like a mad scientist. Yum.

Ima Super Mute Ant – Hahahahahah. … … … … ahahahahhahahahhahahahaha. I'm sorry, it's just… I lurb your name so very much. *resumes cracking up* 

Raskolian Phoenix – Man, if I had a nickel for every time I've ever asked that, I'd have… well, a heckuvalotta nickels. Yeeeep. And about the Amara/Rahne conflict – well, that was just a small thing, Amara will be getting into fights with just about everybody, but I envision Amara to have the most scuffles with Jubilee. (Rant time!: I absolutely HATED Amara in 'Walk On The Wild Side'. She was being whiny, but not bratty whiny, just 'aww man I can't do it' passive whiny, she wore far too much make-up, and just generally was very different from the Amara I envisioned through many official bios and stuff claiming that Amara was a bratty, stuck up princess. I was looking FORWARD to that Amara! And what did we get?! A relatively nice, whiny, unmotivated girl that looks too much like X23 and Amanda but with an overload of make up who tags along with Tabitha as her lesbian lover! …and where in that rant did I start to go horribly off topic? Anyways, Amara grows on you over time, especially after you watch 'Cruise Control'. But I will always lament the loss of a canon, bratty, absolute b!tchy Evolution Amara Aquilla.) 

The Resident Psychopath - …I seem to have run out of things to say after that mammoth space-eating rant above. Thanks for the review, of course. Bananas are good. Meep. 

Starfire – Yeah, people have been pointing that out to me. (Wee! Smart Poptart! Everybody loves to point out her stupidity! Yeah! Hahah! She's so dumb! …wait a second…) Thanks for duuuurh review. Heh. Heheh. *twitch* o_O;;    
    
    _"A gunshot rings out at the station_
    
    _Another urchin snaps and left dead on his own_
    
    _It makes me wonder why I'm still here_
    
    _For some strange reasons its now feeling like my home_
    
    _And I'm never gonna let go"_
    
    _               - Green Day (Dookie) … "Welcome To __Paradise_"__

**Chapter 2: Welcome To ****Paradise**

            Rahne ran into her room and quickly slammed the door. She leaned against it, looking around at her surroundings, with a wolfish (A/N: PUNPUNPUNPUNPUN) grin etched on her face. She was unbelievably glad that she didn't have to share with any of the other girls. Not that she didn't like Jubilee or – Amara, Rahne thought wryly, or Tabitha, but she had always loved having her own space. Now, looking around at the room that had been her own for two days now, she felt a reinvigorated sense of possessiveness and territory. The walls were painted a deep, forest green – her favorite color. 

 _I wonder how the professor knew. _Rahne thought, before immediately mentally hitting herself. Well, he was psychic. A-duh. She shrugged and happily bounced onto the bed, the soft covers enveloping her. 

_It's a bit drafty up in here._ With that thought in mind, she leaned forward on her knees and pushed open the window. A cool, refreshing breeze flew in and ruffled Rahne's wild reddish hair. It might've been considered chilly by others, but she had always loved the feeling of crisp, sharp wind hitting her face. The pangs of homesickness returned, but she quickly thrust them aside, angry tears swiftly pouring out. She fell back to her bed again, straggling for time before she had to go downstairs and meet the entire household. Rahne hugged the pillow to her and curled up in fetal position.

      _I never want to go back to that awful place again_. _Never _again.__

  -----

 "_Awesome_!" Bobby stressed on the word as he kicked the door open. Unfortunately, it banged onto Sam's face as he walked in, and the boy groaned and rubbed his head. 

 "Oops, sorry buddy," Bobby said without much conviction, still taking in his new room. 

"It's alrigh', I'm used to it with my power." Sam said heartily, but Bobby wasn't quite listening. He raced over to the bed next to the window and heaved his bags on top of it. 

 "Man, I never got a room to myself back in Boston. I always had to share it with my twerp brother…" Bobby said delightedly. Sam raised an eyebrow.

  "Eh… Ah'm sorrah if yeh got the wrong impression, but I'm bunking with **yeh**, buddy." Bobby whirled his head around and stared at Sam as if seeing him for the first time. 

 "You?" Bobby said dubiously. Sam's face turned red with embarrassment, but his voice didn't waver.

  "Yeah. Meh." said Sam with a bit of defiance. Suddenly, the door burst open again, revealing a beaming 12-year old visibly vibrating by himself from some invisible force – or perhaps caffeine.

 "Hey guys! Miss Munroe is really really nice, did you know? She gave me some sugar cookies and a band aid after Rahne slammed the door on my finger which she didn't know but that's okay she's still nice and I'm really not supposed to have sugar but I didn't tell Miss Munroe that and it looks like I'm your new room mate!" Jamie finished breathlessly, positively beaming at the two of them. Sam was standing, merely stared in a kind of dead stupor at the boy, while Bobby merely sank into his bed, put his head down to his hands, and sighed in defeat. Jamie looked around at the room.  

              "Hey, there's only two beds!" 

  -----

 Ray walked into his room, and promptly groaned. There _he _was, sitting on a chair looking out the window, looking all moody and shit. Ray couldn't fathom why he didn't like Roberto much – one could call it instinct, but Ray wasn't that type of person, he just impulsively decided if a person was good or not. It might've been because Ray was jealous of Roberto and his natural good looks that had obviously hooked in Tabitha, the bombshell of the girls, but Ray was far too proud and stubborn to admit that to _anyone_.

  Ray looked around, and found that both beds were still unclaimed, as Roberto had remained in that chair the whole time, with his sparse luggage nestled by his foot.   

  "Hey, Enrique – I'm taking this bed." Ray said in a louder-than-necessary voice. "Hear me? NO SPEAKY ENGLISH?" Slowly, very slowly, did Roberto turn around and stared unblinkingly at Ray for the longest tiem. Unnerved, Ray turned away to start unpacking, grumbling about nothing in particular. 

 _But_, Ray thought, _on the bright side, this room is a hell of a lot more comfortable to sleep in than a sewer. Even with Ricky Martin over here._ With that thought, Ray was more enthusiastic and less grumpy. And Ray wasn't even the type of guy to look on the bright side. Especially since he went for months without seeing it. Though that trend would probably be broken now that he was living in Xavier's little mansion…

  -----

    Amara marched into the room like she owned it, while Jubilee stepped in after her, previous tantrum symptoms having all gone. Tabitha sauntered in as well and leaned against the wall by the door, her eyes on the princess who was eyeing the room with apparent distaste. Her petite nose sniffed, and she immediately recoiled. 

 "Ugh, what **is that awful smell?" she exclaimed. Tabitha strode over right next to her and made a little pose, jutting out her hip. "It's my new perfume. Like it? I stole it from the red head's dresser." **

Jubilee arched an eyebrow. "You stole it from Rahne?" Tabitha shook her head. 

 "The Scot chick? Naw, not her. I guess you guys haven't met her yet – but you will, soon enough." Tabitha said with a wry, sadistic grin. "Jean Grey. Possibly the most annoying, bossy, prissy little Miss Perfect you'll ever meet in this hole." 

 _Students, please gather downstairs now to meet your new housemates._

"ACH!" Jubilee jumped in surprise, while Amara, in a more eloquent fashion, widened her eyes and put a hand over her chest. They could tell the others had a similar reaction, because next door, they heard a bump against the wall and a heated swear that couldn't be anyone but Ray, while across the hall they heard multiple (A/N: PUNPUNPUNPUNPUN) screams and shrieks and lots of people running into each other headfirst. 

 "You know, I swear, I think that guy gets a kick out of doing that to us without warning." Tabitha said unperturbedly, walking out of the room. Jubilee shook her head and was about to follow her when Amara's voice halted her. 

 "Excuse me, but I think you've forgotten something." Amara pointed at her pile of bags that were scrunched together on the bed, some slipping off to the edge. "When I get back, please have those unpacked neatly in the dresser, with the socks and lingerie on top." 

Jubilee laughed hollowly. "Ha, ha, ha. No, I don't think so." Her tone was unmistakably sarcastic.

 Amara sniffed. "I told you to do it, so now you're supposed to do it. I am royalty, and I won't be back sassed by a lowly commoner!" She snapped. Jubilee's eye twitched.

 "Here's an idea," Jubilee said in a dangerous low voice, "you can do it yourself, and I'll try to hold back from hitting you. Very hard." 

 "This whole house is impossible! Who is going to serve me!?" Amara shrieked. "I _won't_ have any more of these threats!" With that, she burst into flame, surprising Jubilee so much she fell back on her hiney. But the fact that she was prepared to duel a person with an abnormally high body temperature made out of fire didn't seem to ruffle Jubilee the slightest. She merely lifted a hand, which crackled with strange, colorful sparks of electricity, or energy, or something of the like. Amara didn't quite care. She tossed a boll of fire at the small Oriental girl, who ducked and held her hands out in front of her, shooting colorful fire crackers of sorts at the flaming heap that was Princess Amara Aquilla. These plasmoids that Jubilee liked to call 'firecrackers' could cause serious damage at times, but if you're attacking a human body made of lava and ash that would probably only absorb them, that was not one of those times. Amara rolled her eyes, and threw three fire balls at once. Jubilee emitted an 'eep' and it looked as if she was about to be carted off to the infirmary in pieces, but, surprising Amara, did a clean back flip and narrowly avoided the three balls of fire that exploded at the ground where Jubilee's feet were moments before. The floor crumbled, leaving an open space between the two floors. A lengthy silence pursued, followed by low growl. "Charlie, we have a bit of a problem upstairs." Logan's voice, even more audible by the acoustics of the bathroom, rose up to reach Jubilee's and Amara's ears. Jubilee blanched, while Amara quickly resumed her normal state, looking apprehensive. There was the noise of someone crinkling the newspaper, followed by the sound of Logan zipping up his zipper. But by that time, both girls had already run out of the room.       

  -----

 Bobby was currently curled up into a ball and rocking back and forth creepily on his bed. He had a wild, insane look in his eyes which were darting this way and that, and was humming a little ditty he had come up with on the stop. Sam was standing, unsure what to do, while Jamie bounced around him in circles like an overgrown rabbit.

   "Hey Sam can I call you Big Bro I never had a Big Bro before it'll be GREAT Heehee!"

 "Walls…closing in…on me… room… getting smaller… smaller… _smaaaaallerrrrr…._"

Sam had never been in a situation like this before (you know, the kind where you have a hyperactive sugar-high 12-year old and a twitchy guy sucking his thumb on his bed. Yeah, **that** one) so he decided to use his age old adage that he had just come up with in the past hour of slightly getting to know his housemates: What Would a Cool, Hip, Urban Guy Like Ray Do? – shortened to WWCHUGLRD. This is quite funny, because if you stare at that mnemonic long enough, it kind of looks like its saying CHUG LARD with two extra Ws out of arbitrariness. But enough of that. Sam decided a cool, hip, urban guy like Ray would just walk out the room and shut the door. So he did, but his conscience still felt guilty, bless his sweet, shy Southern heart. Immediately upon shutting the door, he turned around and promptly bumped into the resident Scot, Rahne Sinclair. 

  "Oh! Uhh, hah, Rahne. Sorrah abou' that." Sam was saying hello to Rahne in Southernese. Yes, I know it LOOKS like Hah, but it really isn't. And plus, Southernese is more fun to write than 'his Southern twang'. What's that? I misspelled hah? Oh, go read a Rogue angst story, you, and leave me be!  

 The redhead seemed a bit preoccupied, and blinked when Sam spoke, her eyes coming into focus.

"Oh! Hi. Emm…" 

 "Guthrie. Sam Guthrie." Sam said, still hung up on his WWCHUGLRD axiom. Rahne, who had never seen any of the James Bond movies and hadn't talked to Ray yet, blinked again in a confused manner, but shrugged it off. "Of course, Sam. Sorry about tha'. I wasn't really watching where I was going, y'see." said Rahne, with her Scottish accent. Sam laughed half-heartedly. 

 "Yeah, well, ah do it all the time." Rahne smiled at that, and they began walking together through the hall. _We must look pretty funny, Sam thought. __Me, being a 6 foot giant and her head coming up at my shoulders. But Rahne interrupted this train of thought to make companionable conversation._

 "Don't ye have roommates?" She asked curiously, casting an inquisitive look back at the door Sam had come out of. "Why aren't they walking with us?" Sam wondered how to answer that.

 "Uhh… well, right now, Jamie's probably bouncin' off the walls from all the sugah, and Bobby is creeped out from the mind talkin' thing, so he's stayin' in 'is room in a little ball." Sam didn't realize how funny that sentence sounded. He and Rahne looked at each other, and burst into laughter.  

    "Well, I must admit, tha' was a bit freaky." Rahne said, her accent twisting the word 'freaky'. They turned a corner and had reached the stairs. At the mouth, most of the people had already gathered. "He didn' even tell us it was him! I thought I was going crazy…"

 "You're not alone." Sam offered a grin, and Rahne grinned back.  

  -----

            "Hello again, students. I apologize for any shock I caused you; I did not intend to startle you so. With that said, I implore, where is Bobby, Jubilee, and Jamie?" The professor asked, his eyes scanning the crowd of straggling teenagers around him. Sam shuffled his feet. 

 "Err, they're still in their room, sir. Jamie had some sugah, and Bobby is…having a nervous breakdown." Sam finished flatly, unable to find any other way to word it. This received some titters, while Ororo looked slightly alarmed, for once. 

"I asked him if he was allowed to eat sugar in the evening at home, he didn't tell me!" Ororo said with a little moan. She quickly, but still gracefully, pushed past the young mutants and swiftly made her way up the stairs and out of sight. The question of Jubilee's absence, however, still lingered, but not for long. Amara cleared her throat. 

  "I can answer for the girl named Jubilation's disappearance. Earlier, the girl was being insubordinate with me, and we were in a tiny scuffle. That man should know what I'm talking about." Amara pointed at Logan, who grunted with an annoyed look. Amara continued, "Well, obviously, as the guilty all do, she fled from the room and took off to outside. I wouldn't know what direction, as I remained here as an innocent bystander."  Scott widened his eyes (even though you can't tell, but whatever) and stepped forward, assuming 'caring, fearless leader' position and kind of posing, but unintentionally, of course. 

 "We have to find her, Professor!" 

"I know, Scott. Logan?" 

"On it." Logan said gruffly, striding out through the front doors. The professor sighed, and turned back to his increasingly restless students. "Well, this has grown to be quite a hassle. Perhaps it would be better to introduce you all to each other tomorrow."

  ----- 

 _Man, I forgot how uncomfortable these benches are._ Jubilee thought to herself, shifting edgily in her seat. It was ironic, sort of, how familiar this scenario was. The circumstances were pretty much the same, except for what she was running away from. The first time had been from the mall security, the second time, from the juvenile center. This time, she was running away from paradise. But what choice did she have? She moved her legs out from under her and let them swing freely. Sighing, she bent her head down, letting the curtain of dark hair swing out in front to hide her face. They would've kicked her out anyways, for that… she just made their job easier. This was what she was trying to convince herself, but being out in the street in the dark that was quickly getting darker alone, it was with great effort she didn't stand up and go right back. Jubilee had only slept out in the streets twice… then she had found the great and mighty haven that was known as a mall. 

  The wind blew extra hard, and Jubilee shivered, trying to collect as much warmth as her yellow shirt would offer her. She wondered miserably what she could do; where could she go. The only reason she was sitting at the bus stop was for the sake of looking like she was waiting for something, rather than wandering about the streets looking like an ickle lost orphan, which if she did, someone would see her and send for the police straightaway. Then, she'd be right back where she started. With a start, she jumped up, realizing something: she'd left her bag back there! Everything that was important to her, was in that bag… she slumped back down, feeling twice as depressed.  

     A jacket fell around her shoulders. Alarmed, Jubilee looked up, prepared to kick, punch, and bite – and there was Logan. She looked down ashamedly. 

"I'm sorry. I'll pay back for it, I swear. I – I don't have the money, but I'll work it off."

Logan looked slightly amused. "You can bet you will, kid. But we'll have to get you home first." 

 "You mean…you're not going to ship me back to the Juvenile Hall?" Panic struck into Jubilee's heart. What if, to save the trouble, they sent her off to a New York orphanage rather than the Los Angeles County Juvenile Hall? At least she knew her way around Los Angeles, plus at the very least, it was never very cold, unlike New York. What if New York was creepier than Los Angeles at night? Though Jubilee found that hard to imagine… Logan gave her a funny look. 

  "Why would we? The Professor's already been looking for foster families." 

"He's looking for…what?" She looked up quickly, and immediately flinched, having strained a muscle. 

 "Yeah. And one that lives here in New York, so you can go home with them on holidays if you want to." Logan paused, and looked grumpy. "Are you moving or not? Because, if you haven't noticed Firecracker, it's getting pretty damn cold out here."

          Jubilee gave a sniff that was uncannily similar to Amara's, and grinned. "Then you shouldn't have given me your jacket, you big lug."    

Fun Fact: Haruka (Sailor Uranus in the Sailor Moon anime)'s dubbed English name is Amara. She and Michiru (Sailor Neptune, dubbed Michelle in the English version) are lesbian lovers. WOW! 'Amara' must be like, a universal lesbian name or something! I'm pretty sure Pyro/Amara fans are going to flame me now (Fweh heh, PUNPUNPUNPUNPUNPUN) but what can I say? I have a friend who's a huge slash fan. She is in love with Lance/Pietro, Scott/Kurt, Bobby/Sam; the works, not to mention Tabitha/Amara. So she was bound to brainwash me with her slash ways. So… what was the whole point of that rant? Oh yes. NYAHH!

2nd Fun Fact: You might've noticed, but the first part of this chapter was a bit serious, and then abruptly it turned random, strange, and stupid. That would be the pixie sticks' fault. BLAME THE PIXIE STIX!!!

A/N: I couldn't resist putting in a Wolverine/Jubilee moment. You know what's the best picture? This one: h  ttp : // www.            wolverineandjubilee.       com/gallery/duo/Pages/Image2. html (Delete the spaces) Isn't it so sweet??  Moving on… I have a dilemma… should I keep this at PG or move it up to PG-13? Because, as you noticed, Ray has some naughty language, and I'm not sure whether to just keep on mildly censoring or give up and move the rating up.   

            Upcoming Chapter 3: I'm Blue, Da Bee Da Do. (Hmmm, I wonder what _that chapter's about…)_


	3. I'm Blue, Da Ba Dee

"Man, I need to get me some moo juice."

                        - Evan Daniels

**Turn, Smile, Shift, Repeat**

A/N: I have a feeling people are going to throw moldy furry green cyber cheese at me after they read the lyrics excerpt in this chapter. But I don't care, because I live for puns. That and I like furry green cheese. I see pirate penguins after eating furry green cheese. … … … uhh, Happy Nondominational Holidays!

MORE stuff about Amara that no one really cares to know: I visited marveldirectory.com, and it says Amara is from Nova Roma, this secluded place in a hidden city in the Amazon jungle. So… I guess she's not from an island in the Pacific? (Comic verse terribly confuses me, sometimes) Either way, the Amazon-jungle-thing is the route I'm going to take in this story, here on out. 

~*~Reviewer Responses~*~

Joey1 – Really? I'd like to read it! The world needs more new recruit fics… and Jamie angst. Yes. That would make the world go 'round. Thanks for the kind words!

Ima Super Mute Ant – Hee, hee, hee. Thanks for the review!

Dark Jaded Rose – Eh, but Logan knows better! He's a MAN! … adult. Yeah. Eh. Ray's allowed to say naughty words, because he's a ROCK STAHHH!!! Ahem. Thanks!

Tak – That's super nice of you, but I think it'll be easier on everyone if I just stick to Babelfish and not make the language mix-up again. ^^ But thanks, anyways. And again, I'm SORRY to all of you guys. Really, I am, and I swear I won't do something that stupid again. …okay, I can't promise that. *reads second review* See? I can't keep promises about my levels of stupidity. :B

Raskolian Phoenix - ^^ All of the chapter titles are named after songs. The first one was from The Bee Gees ('70s, baby!), the second song was from Green Day and the excerpt came out really screwed up on the page…but whatever… and this chapter is named after yet another song. This'll be a Roberto/Rahne/Sam love triangle for sure, but I really don't know what'll be the outcome anymore. I **used to be a huge Rahne/Sam 'shipper, but that was before I kept on watching 'Retreat' over and over and over again…kind of like how I watch Power Surge over and over again for the Bobby/Jubilee moment. XD**

animeluvr1 – Eck; don't worry; I'm not a Logan/Jubilee 'shipper. _ You have to look kind of closely and guess a little bit; but there's something that happens here that's very important to the Tabitha/Amara relationship later on…

Camille – Really? One of my X-Men: Evolution forum buddies is from New Orleans, and he says nobody sounds anything like Remy or Daddy Le Beau. He was so mad during the Cajun Spice episode. ^^; And apparently, no one in Australia would be caught dead talking like John. But I like writing accents! Woo! (Except for Piotr's…I really don't know how to word his…which is why I will never be seen writing an Acolytes story until I find out…) You have the same sense of humor as me? That's sublime.

Radical-Seto – Wee! Thanks for the kind words… Right now I'm double-tasking by writing this up and reading your story, 'My Love'. It's awesome for a first fic, did you know that? And I'm a Kurt/Kitty fan too! Runaway looks good too. Update. Now. Or else I will shake the world with my Lance powers…nyeh heh…

cxigner – I'm on someone's Author list?!! WOOOOT!! *head explodes with self-esteem overload*

cheeky-bear007 - ^^ Humorous doesn't even cover half of it…I'm not really trying to make the characters funny, it's just my stupid writing style…I have a habit of incorporating a little bit of myself in all of my fics… thanks for reviewing!

The Rogue Witch – Hee, me too. Except I eat piiiiixieeee stiiiiicks. Cookies don't cut it for me… HAHAH! A special tree!? o_O! That's…disturbing and funny at the same time… man, I love your guys' reviews. Fwee!

StarryEyedDragon – Yeah, I myself can't pick a favorite between the New Recruit guys. They're all so bueno. Hem… this week, it's Roberto again. ^_~ Last week my favorite was Ray… I kept on screaming 'LET'S FRY THIS TURKEY!' in the hallways of my school. 

Chaotic Boredom – Oh, no. Not unless you e-mailed me and insulted me with bad grammar. ^^ As I am SUCH a nice person (pffft, not) I won't say any names; but rest easy, because I have no bad feelings towards any of the reviewers, as this person did not review. (even more reason to dislike them…mwee!) Heh…sexist writers? Hey, even more evidence: Pietro kept on disappearing in Season 02! … I go to such lows to try to entertain you guys. Sadly enough, I must say that there is no Canadian-ness in this chapter.

 Sphinx29 – So… he's super-religious, but he had an AFFAIR with her mom? _ Man, and I thought he was an ass before this. Thanks for the info!

mendari - ^^ It was to answer any questions and doubts, but yes, a portion of it was inspired by one of your reviews. You call Roberto Sunny? Coolio! I call him PLANTMAN!!! …He speaks MAYAN!!?! Noooooo. I'm going to go insane. Babelfish doesn't have Mayan, last time I checked…urg. Man, you guys are making me hate Rev. Craig more and more. 

Andivari – I feel SOO stupid. Sorry for the mistake! And yes, these couples kick mucho assus. Well, I love your RoD/BoD couples, don't I? ^^ And in case animeluvr1 never reads this story again, could you tell her (him? I just don't know anymore…) that I'm REAAAALLY sorry for not mentioning her as co-author? I didn't know before… _ A younger set of the Brotherhood, eh? *rubs hands together* Eeeeexcelleeeent.

animeluvr1 – GAH! I'm so, so, so, so, SO very sorry. Really! I am! I'm sorry about the Portuguese/Hispanic/Mayan thing, I'm sorry about making Amara _eeeeevil, and I'm REALLY sorry to you, and about mistaking D-Ark (now Andivari…) for a girl. Thanks for reviewing. *hides in a dark corner and rocks back and forth*_

Scribbler – *_* Whoa. THE Scribbler is reviewing my little fic! AND she called me an evil breakfast supplement! SQUEE! I can honestly say that some things in this fic are inspired by reading your stories, and a couple other ones as well, for the single reason that I just love your characterization of the NMs. Hope you didn't mind! o__  

Calamari Rings – I swear, I've heard of you in other places before. Maybe it was in a forum, or an oekaki board, but I did, really, you must've built a name for yourself around the X-Men: Evo fan community, or maybe people thought your name was so cool they copied it… anyways, there'll be a chapter about every frickin' character in X-Men: Evolution, in this fic. Heck, I might even write a chapter about Duncan! :D That'd be _sweeeeeeet_… Thanks for the ideas! Especially that Bobby/Sam one… because we all know that somewhere in Season 04, between 'Stuff of Villains' and 'Ghost of a Chance', Bobby was forced to choose between his long distance girlfriend, and his best 'friend', Sam. And though it was a difficult choice, Bobby eventually chose…and we all know who he picked, considering all the 'horsey'-ness. :P

Snitter in Rivendell – Dude, my head ALREADY blew up with egotistical self-esteem. :D No, really. Thanks v. much for all the compliments! I was planning to upload this tomorrow (I never like posting on Sundays…) but your words made me feel guilty. Yes, I don't update consistently… my muses are quite evil, so blame them. Again, thank you!!! I thank all of y'all… D'aw, yeh guys ah soo sweet. *blush*

_Yo__ listen up: here's a story  
About a little guy that lives in a blue world  
And all day and all night and everything he sees is  
Just blue like him inside and outside  
Blue his house with a blue little window  
And a blue Corvette and everything is blue for him  
And himself and everybody around  
'Cause he aint got nobody to listen: ...  
  
I'm blue da ba dee (etc, etc)  
I'm blue da ba dee (etc, etc)_

            - Eiffel 65 … "Blue"

Chapter 3: I'm Blue, Da Ba Dee 

            Roberto scowled at the glow-in-the-dark stickers on the ceiling before him. They were of stars, planets, moons, and other such universal objects, and they mocked him. Roberto Da Costa was always restless during nighttime – he just wasn't the nocturnal type, personality-wise **and mutation-wise. He was also very good at scowling. It came naturally to him. That's what Bobby had said to him the other day; he had been rambling about something about Mexican gardeners and leaf blowers. It didn't really make much sense. Actually, nothing really makes sense when Bobby babbles. But he did earn a smack over the head from Logan for that, who, as it happens, greatly enjoys smacking the back of the heads of the males of the household.**

    He heard Ray turn under his covers and make an odd noise that was something between a grunt and a snore. Roberto scowled at the sleeping boy, scowled at this lavish mansion that was incredible compared to his old home, scowled at this place that was so different from what he knew and was familiar with. If he had had his way at all, he would not be here in this wretched, twisted collection of freaks and demons. What was worst of it all, was that he was one of them. A mutant. An official outcast of society. From the descriptions that Logan told the New Recruits about other mutants hanging around Bayville; other mutants that were not quite as fortunate as the X-Men, Roberto was thankful, at the least, that his mutant-enhanced DNA did not extend to his normal appearance. Green skin, red eyes, razor sharp teeth… were they mutants or animals?

 Hm. Perhaps it was best not to ponder that question. 

  -----

 Bobby scowled at the ceiling. He was restless because of the humid heat in the room, and he was restless because the room temperature was higher than usual, being that it was accompanied by three people rather than one. He was also restless because, a 12-year old kid was mumbling in his sleep and kicking around the covers next to him. While in contrast, on the other bed, a gawky, unassertive Southern hick was sleeping contentedly, hugging his pillow and with a dreamy half-smile on his rather large head.  

  How the heck had _he, Bobby, the master of disguise, pranks, and bluffs, get stuck with sharing the bed? Maybe because he had taken Sam to be the ultimate pushover, despite his size, and underestimated him. (There were many contradictions in that sentence, Bobby knew, but couldn't be bothered to decipher them.) In any case, Jamie had sat down next to Ororo during dinnertime (the boy was oddly taken with her – Bobby grew excited, despite himself, at the thought of possible blackmail. A boy like Bobby always, ALWAYS gets excited at the thought of blackmail.) and explained the problem, having lost his sugar energy by then. Logan, having overheard the conversation, gruffly suggested they flip a coin and see 'who gets stuck with the runt', as Logan had put it. Then Ororo reprimanded him for that comment, saying that it was rude to act as if Jamie was a nuisance to be put up with when rather, he was a blessing. (Jamie had glowed after that heatedly said comment.) It seemed Logan was used to being defeated in arguments by Ororo, and merely grunted, and forked up some boiled potatoes with a SNIKT. ("_Boiled?!_ But I'm a man! I need man food!" Logan muttered tetchily before earning a death glare from Ororo, by which he quickly ate it.) Bobby, who was sitting in between Jamie and Ray, immediately took up Logan's suggestion and had already gotten his trick coin out. Sam, sitting directly across from Bobby and wedged in between Rahne and Jubilee, looked rightfully suspicious at the coin. Bobby had merely grinned at Sam's expression; Bobby was the master of the con, and was sure that no one could be able to catch him. _

     That was, until Jubilee, whom had arrived midway into the dinner course with Logan and now sat between the said lumberjack man and Sam, piped up to ask Bobby at this particular moment which room he resided in. Bobby lost concentration and quickly got involved in a mind-consuming (not) conversation with her, while somehow, someway, Sam switched the coins. Probably with Jubilee's help, because there was no way Sam could've done it by himself. How could he have? He was pretty sure his mutant abilities weren't also branched out to stealth… and Jubilee was far away and Bobby's eyes were on her the whole time, so she couldn't have done it. Unless… Rahne had helped out as well? He had noticed over the course of dinner that they had grown to be something akin to friends already, and had been, in between eating, conversed animatedly about the animals that Sam had grown up with and raised on the farm. (Honestly, Bobby couldn't fathom how talking about animals could be so interesting.) But then again, Rahne didn't seem like the type of person who would do something like that, or really have the pick pocketing skills to switch coins unnoticed. Ray was off the list – he seemed to treat Sam with scorn, and was far too busy having a glaring contest with Amara across from him. (The resident princess was choosing to, instead of picking at her bland dinner as she had done at first, glare at everyone around her, which happened to Rahne, sitting next to her, and Ray, across from her. She, most definitely, did not help Sam out.) So maybe it was possible. He had simply underestimated the farm kid.   

      Bobby grimaced at the mere thought of it. 

  -----

            Ororo stood outside at her balcony to stare out at the sky. Just an hour ago, all of the highschooler X-Men veterans had just returned from a party of their pupil's – Duncan, she believed. (The Professor hadn't wanted them to go, even if it was Saturday evening. He wanted them to stay for dinner and meet the New Recruits. Ororo had convinced him to let them go and have introductions the next day; she felt bonds needed to be made between the younger ones first, and it would be pointless to do it right there when three students were missing.) Evan had returned with a gash on the side of his head. Ororo nearly had a heart attack and fussed over him, but he promptly turned his head the other way so she couldn't see it, muttered a good night, and went to his room. She tried to get it out of the others, but Jean was flushed and embarrassed and quickly left to the solitude of her room. Scott was flushed as well, but out of shame; he said in a hollow voice it was all his fault, and refused to say another word after that, dragging his feet up the stairs and out of sight. Kurt and Kitty weren't an option, as they hadn't even gone to the party. (They weren't old enough to go to one of Duncan Matthew's reckless parties, as Jean told them. They were full of liquor that you had to learn to avoid, some drugs that were being sold in the corners, and many drunken hook ups in the master bedroom. Not that any of that was told to the adults, but they knew enough. And trusted them to avoid it.) 

   It was Rogue, surprisingly, who told her what happened. Scott and Duncan had got into a huge fist fight with other guys in it… Evan had attempted to break it up, but Scott shoved him away, and one of Duncan's cronies had gotten the switchblade out…

     After that, Rogue grew tight-lipped, snapped a 'Good nigh' to the woman, and stomped upstairs. Ororo sighed and drew the robe around her shoulders closer; on a clear, moonlit night like this, she felt somewhat lonely. Evan was pushing her aside like a typical teenager. It wasn't as if she wasn't expecting it, but… they used to be so much closer when Evan was younger. And she was embarrassed… ever since the whole Magneto and 'superior mutants' fiasco, she had been sitting around at the Institute feeling more than a bit useless, and miffed at the memory of being captured and helpless. But all that would change, she mused, now that the new mutants had come. Her motherly instincts were kicking in already; there was going to be a lot to do for her now around here. She would be needed. And she needed the feeling of being needed.

 Nine new recruits… one who has a short fuse and the powers to go with it; two roguish mischief-makers whose powers involve lots of flashy explosions; a metamorph that enjoys romping about hazardously; a spotlight-hogging prankster with a power that has numerous and vast possibilities; a clumsy living, breathing air projectile that makes an elephant look graceful; a volcano that's set to explode at any second; and a tetchy, surly absorbent of solar energy the equivalent of a plant. 

     She sighed. Just thinking about it gave her a headache and a mighty hankering for some Tylenol.         

  -----   

            "This is the rec room." Scott announced, his arm sweeping about in front of him to exaggerate his point. Rahne made a little "o" of understanding with her mouth, while Sam nodded avidly. (but he had been nodding at everything Scott said. He nodded every time Scott paused for breath. He nodded when Scott scratched under his arm, but then, Scott didn't know anybody had been watching.) 

   Bobby eyed the television set by the corner excitedly. "Do you guys have a PS2? Or a Gamecube?"

Scott frowned at the mention of video games, which as we all know, rot your mind away to delicately powdered mush. … … …drool. "You should ask Kurt or Evan about that instead of me; the Professor discourages time spent to video games, but they play them anyway. Moving on," Scott walked briskly forward out of the room, the New Recruits trudging behind him. They passed the kitchen, where Kitty Pryde was going about collecting ingredients for a sandwich or two.  

       BAMF! "Hey, Keety! Making a ham-mustard-pickle-pepper sandvich?"

  Make that seven.

The sophomore frowned and crossed her arms, holding a tube of mayonnaise in one hand. "Like, ew, Kurt! I'm making a simple cucumber sandwich! The ham around here isn't kosher!"

 The blue-haired boy paused from in the middle of pulling up his pants up to cover his green boxers a little bit more, and looked bewildered while staring at Kitty. "You're Jewish?" [1]

  Scott quickened his pace, ushering the young mutants to follow him. Jamie cast a final, longing look at the sandwich in the process of being made before chasing after to catch up with the rest of the group. After walking up the stairs and down the long, long hall, they halted in front of the large metal contraption before them. It resembled a giant elevator, but to Amara, it looked like an ugly, gleaming silver monster made of steel and iron. Scott pushed the button and the doors slid open with a cool 'metal sliding' sound effect, like those doors in Star Trek. She shrieked, jumping back to trod on Sam's toe, making the boy grimace in pain but sweetly kept his mouth closed. Her frown deepened when Scott stepped into it, and made as if to motion the others into it with him.

"You're kidding, aren't you? I'm not stepping into that – that – _thing!" Amara exclaimed, pointing at the lift as if it had popped out from the elevators of hell. Which is funny, because I've always wondered if there are elevators in hell. Like, there'd be a Level 1 for all of the kids who ever cheated on their tests, and a Level 2 for all them authors who ever paired Sabretooth with Juggernaut, and a Level 3 for the people who made the song "Up Side Down" by A*Teens. I imagine Pyro would go wild for that; he'd push all the buttons and run around screaming and laughing. But our young friends don't know who Pyro is, and at the moment, are not pondering if there are elevators in hell. (Actually, I'm pretty sure Jamie is. That kid is a misunderstood genius.) At the moment, Scott was staring at Amara (only he could've been staring at Tabitha's chest for all we know behind those red shades, the sly fox) and everyone was staring confusedly at Amara. _

  "Erm… Ah believe it's called an elevaterr." Sam said helpfully.

A look of comprehension dawned on Scott's face. "I get it… you're the princess from Nova Roma, am I right?"

 Amara scowled, except princesses don't scowl; she pouted prettily with an angry look in her eye. "I am the first and only daughter of Lucius Antonius Aquilla, the First Senator of Nova Roma." She sniffed, and added, "I suppose, in your cultural environment, I would be called in simpler terms a 'princess'."

"Right." Scott said all business-like, not paying any attention to Amara's haughty tone. "Well, Amara, you might be surprised, and even shocked, by the technology that you're going to see down here. Some of this stuff is way ahead of its time, and whatever you guess the equipment's worth, it's twice as much. So that means **no touching anything, at least for today." Scott sent a stern look at them all, but you can't really tell, but his mouth was curving down a bit. So there.**

    For the most part, Jamie had been quiet for the tour. Actually, back home, he was known as the quiet kid, but for some reason, he felt unusually hyper around the Institute. It was just something in the air that made him get to his feet and dance. Probably Logan's sweat pheromones.

  "Bouncy! Bouncy bouncy bouncy bouncy!" Jamie trilled, jumping on the balls of his feet. Bobby moaned and collapsed to the side of the wall, feeling his symptoms coming back again. Unfortunately, that side of the wall was where Rahne had been leaning against, and she shoved him quite forcefully for such a friendly person, and smiled without any trace of guilt.

 "Sorry, laddie, but this would be my corner. I'm a wee bit territorial, ye know." Rahne said cheerfully. Bobby merely groaned in pain. Sam attempted to stifle his snort of laughter, but it came out anyways. The Scottish-bred girl grinned at him, and he blushed. This time, Ray snorted; but for different reasons. Something bumped against his arm, and he turned to see Tabitha Smith awfully close to him.

 "What's the mattah, sugah?" Tabitha said, imitating Sam's southern twang, but as a girl, she sounded an awful lot like Rogue. Scott, surprised, turned his head quickly, but found no goth girl sulking among their ranks. Meanwhile, Ray, attempting to keep what little cool he had in his head, tried to say something that would impress her, but at that instant, the lift stopped and Scott ushered everyone out of the now-open door. At the moment, Ray hated their leader. Very, very much. Tabitha seemed to have forgotten that she had ever spoken to him in an exaggerated Southern accent already, and walked up front to join Roberto, who gave no notice of her.

  "This is the systems control room. As inexperienced, unqualified recruits, you're not allowed in here, and even if you were, you shouldn't have a need to be in here. This room is entered only if something is going haywire, and on systems checks. If you're smart, you won't ever need to come in here." Scott said. He closed the door to the dark room and walked down the hall, his brisk footsteps making a '_tap, tap, tap'. _

"Absolutely everything down here is metal." Amara said in a hushed voice, as if someone had died. 

"No, not everything." Scott said in a strange tone, a dry-looking grin on his face that had absolutely no humor in it. "If it was…" He paused, looking at them all. "Well, maybe I'm not the person to say. Anyways, this is the Navigational Room. Again, I doubt you'll need to come here unless the Prof is going to fill you in on mission details. Here, we can look up data and information we need, but believe me when I say it's **not** for your History homework." 

        Bobby tried to move his head to see over Ray's tall one, and craned his neck forward. 

"Cool!" He exclaimed. "It's like a gamer's heaven in here!"

 Scott glared at Bobby, and continued. "We have cameras in every single room in this house and outdoors, except for the bathrooms. In this room, we can see anything that's going on in the perimeter of the Institute." He switched off the lights and hurried them over to the middle of the hall, where another elevator; a fatter one, stood still for them, marked by a giant red X.

 "Why's there another one? Couldn't we have just taken the first elevator?" asked Tabitha, looking bored.

"The rooms we're going down to are too large and too deep for the elevator to fit." Scott simply said. He pressed the button, and it opened to reveal a sodden and severely disgruntled Evan. 

  "Danger Room Session a little tough on you, Ev?" Scott said with a grin. Evan glowered at him. 

"God, Logan went crazy on us today." Evan muttered darkly. "Who took_ his_ dog bone?" Scott laughed, and hit him on his back. Evan made an 'oomph' sound, and fell forward. The bone spikes – sorry, **spykes – had already grown out by that time, and when Scott held an arm out to steady him, two of them burst out directly at Bobby's head. Three more ones shot out right afterwards, and just barely missed Sam's head and stuck onto the wall behind him, adorning something like a half-halo around the tall boy's face. But something odd was going on.**

 The two spikes that had aimed at Bobby were hovering right before Bobby's tightly shut-eyed face. 

"Good reflexes, Jean." Scott said, relieved. A second person stepped out behind Evan from the elevator, holding her hands out in front of her like some kind of zombie. The new recruits received an eyeful of bright, lush, almost-too-red-to-be-real hair that made Jamie think of Little Mermaid. He started swaying to the beat of 'Under The Sea', but no one noticed that except for Roberto, who determinedly kept his mouth shut and tried to keep a straight face.

 Jean stomped up and snatched the two floating spikes out of the air and into her fists. "_Evan_." She sounded annoyed and glared at the said person, who put an arm to his head apologetically. His arm moved a little, and the recruits caught a glimpse of an ugly gash with a fresh scab.

 "Sorry." He said sheepishly. "Hey, you okay, dude?"

Bobby didn't reply at first, but slowly opened one eye. "Am I dead?" He croaked. 

 Scott grinned. "Not just yet, if Logan's training sessions is anything to go by."

  Bobby sighed with tremulous relief, his hand touching his nose and forehead and cheeks as if making sure they hadn't been hideously marred without his knowing. But Jamie was more concerned about what had nearly killed Bobby, rather than if he was okay. He peered up at the resident skater boy. [2]

    "Was that your power?" Jamie asked. Evan nodded glumly.

"I can't really control them all the time – good thing Jean's always around, right Jean?" Evan said brightly, but Jean merely 'humphed'.

    "That's the thing, Evan; I **won't always be around with you, and you don't seem to realize the possible consequences of that!" Jean stormed off with a frustrated look on her face. Evan merely shrugged, the motion making Bobby duck quickly. **

"Man, I need to get me some moo juice." said Evan. "Good luck with the midgets, Scott!"

 "Hey!" Jubilee cried out, but Evan ran off with stars in his eyes dreaming of his beloved moo juice. Scott merely sighed from the long delay and stepped inside the elevator that had been lying in open the entire time. Just as everyone was about to follow, Sam coughed. A chunk of his hair close to his scalp was being held hostage by a particularly large spike pinned up on the wall. "Could somebahdy help meh please?"

     After the dubbed 'hair incident', the now-paranoid-with-fear X-kids timidly followed Scott into the elevator and down. A very long, long way down. Halfway, Jamie remembered that he had claustrophobia, and started freaking out and running into things. Like Scott's butt, for example. But after all that mayhem, the elevator door opened, and everyone ran out, Jamie in tow. 

   "Alright guys; welcome to the Danger Room. Don't wander too far out from the entrance, or else you'll get caught up in the middle of the session." Scott pointed, and everyone followed his finger, where Logan was having his own bit of fun for the remaining 6 minutes of the session. Suddenly, a blur of blue and black spandex flashed past the recruits' eyes, and hurtled towards Ray. He freaked and put his hands in front of him, but the blur merely went _through him. It was the oddest feeling Ray had ever experienced._

  "Oh, man! I'm like, so sorry for being late, Mr. Logan, but Kurt was like, _totally_ harassing me for a sandwich -"

 Logan sniffed in the air for smoke. "Where is Elf, anyways?"

 Kitty 'tutted' and crossed her arms. "Probably raiding the fridge for, like, _ham or something." She pretended to gag. _

     As Scott tore their attention away from the drama unfolding to jumpstart into a mind numbing lecture about all the machinery and equipment in the room, Bobby got out a Gameboy from his pocket and began mashing buttons to get Mario to jump over the Goombas. Amara, who was standing behind him, felt curiousity building up inside her. "Let me see." She said bossily to him. Bobby didn't seem to mind the rude tone, probably because he had already gotten deeply absorbed in the game or perhaps it was just because it was a pretty _girl_, so he leaned over a bit to let Amara see a good angle. But Rahne felt a prick of irritation stab at her like an uncooperative sewing needle. Manners were something that were a bit of a peeve for her; she didn't like them as her nature as a free wolf, but it was a thing that stuck with you when you lived with a strict minister and a withdrawn caretaker woman that shoved the horrible things down her throat as a child. 

   But by that time, Amara had noticed Rahne staring at her, and glared. "What are you doing? Turn around and pay attention!"

 Rahne snorted. "I could say the same for ye, gal. Mind ye manners, and try to say 'please' next time, eh?" Bobby had already fell back into the stupor of playing videogames and had probably already forgotten that Amara had even said anything to him, but Rahne hadn't. And this time, she would make sure the princess wouldn't be allowed to get away with her outright rudeness. No one should be able to.

  Amara had had enough of this; she couldn't take this impudence any longer. Was **this** how they treated royalty, then? In this so-called great country of freedom and wealth and new beginnings? The first thing tomorrow, she would have one of those telepathic servants around the Institute somehow contact her father in Nova Roma, and she would get one of those awful giant steel flying contraptions straight back home. But first, a lesson had to be taught; a mark, left by a Nova Roma royal princess. She was above fist fights, surely? But this Scot's cheeky tongue had earned her it. 

 Coldly, she said, "I don't need to listen to such a disrespectful tramp." Amara raised her hand to slap Rahne, but the she-wolf was faster, moving her head at the right time. Apparently, Rahne had had enough as well. She crouched down and bent her knees in a dog-like position, and pounced. 

   Nobody even noticed that she was falling; falling backwards to hit the cold, metallic ground. Rahne, in wolf form, was on top of her. The large paws that were bigger than that of a dog's were on her chest, close to her neck, and had knocked the breath out of her upon impact. Then, even more impact; Amara's back hit painfully to the ground with a body on top of hers, and slid backwards for about 3 or 4 feet.

  Someone had started to scream; it was either Kitty's or Jubilee's, as Tabitha seemed the unlikely type to freak out in a situation. Amara lifted her head to see why they were screaming, and widened her eyes. A large, ominous-looking black – _thing_ – was pointing at her head. The point glowed a strange-colored red that was almost transparent, but not; and it didn't look to be friendly. With a start, Amara realized what it could be: a gun. One of those that had killed off many, more primitive, tribes in South America that were similar to Nova Roma. She had seen rough drawings of these, but this one looked much more advanced, which scared her. But did she have time to be scared, seconds before she was going to die? 

   The wolf on top of her had jumped off and was now tugging desperately at Amara's shirt to pull her out of range, but the gun was merely following her movement. The now charged-up gun fired, and Amara closed her eyes in blind fear. She felt two oddly warm hands seize her, pick her up. The next moment she knew, the strangest feeling was going through her; something close to dizziness and almost nausea mixed with a tense, powerful energy that was moving within her, as if she had entered a black hole and came back.  

      "Oh, thank God, Kurt." said someone. Amara opened her eyes, and screamed.

  -----

            Nobody had screamed at Kurt for a long, long time now. Kurt realized this as he sat, perched on the balcony like a strange large cat about to take off into the sky and plummet. Oh, sure, Kitty occasionally screamed at him after he gagged on one of her muffins and quickly tossed it behind him; and Rogue screamed at him that one time when one of his carelessly tossed muffins bonked her right in the head and knocked her temporarily unconscious, but nobody screamed at his appearance anymore. He had gotten far too used to it, far too comfortable about it; what happened to that pensive him, the one who lived in Germany and always hid inside his parents' cottage, for fear of going outside and seeing people stare, point, and hiss at him, or the worst of all, cringe. 

  _What did I expect?_ Kurt thought bitterly to himself. Had he blinded himself by wearing that holowatch so often that he had forgotten what he was? No, surely not – there were too many dreams, too many memories about infants screaming blood murder with their tiny lungs at the sight of him, too many burns and scars from those all too familiar pitchforks and dull-pointed butcher knives. Too much blue.

 In an instance of frenzied berserk rage, he clawed wildly at his arm. Too much blue, too much blue… one strike at a time, he scratched away skin and blue and fur with grim determination. Still too blue, still too blue… his arm grew raw and pink and fleshy, like the pouchy red cheeks of an old man weathered by age and wear, veins decorating his skin in the inimitable mark of elderliness. Blood crept out of his skin like slowly crawling insects out of a hive, and tingled his harsh flesh with a smarting pain that left him hurt and satisfied at the same time. 

  Eventually, his arm tired out from his reckless anger, and fell limply at his side. The other one that was mottled with bits of blue and red and broken skin was still raised into the air like some kind of sick trophy that was being held up by a proud conqueror. But eventually, that, too, fell down to his sides lifelessly, having given up. On what it had given up, Kurt wasn't exactly sure.

    "Kurt?" A soft voice spoke from behind him. Many occasions before, when Kurt's holowatch went on a spontaneous fritz and a human bystander was just lucky enough to happen their eyes on him, and after the Professor performed an easy mind wipe, Kitty would find him here just outside of his room, lamenting his soul and pitying his entire life ahead and behind of him. Kitty would snap it out of him, or maybe hug him and speak to him in a soothing voice, but that was only before Kurt would remember how Kitty had reacted when **she **first saw him, and then all her efforts would be futile until morning, when he had gotten out of his self-angst and back to his normal, lively him. This time though, it wasn't Kitty. Kurt knew who it was, and knowing who it was made him want to port out of there. Instead, he pretended to be in intense focus on peeling a little bit of skin from the corner of where his rampage had taken place. 

  A deep, heavy breath. "I'm very sorry, Kurt." The voice was stiff and nervous, as if the speaker had never apologized before. "I…" She trailed off when Kurt slowly turned around and fixed one gold eye on her. Her head lowered, and she looked down, embarrassed and ashamed. That was what most people would do, and that was exactly what would make Kurt feel even worse at the time. It made him feel as if they didn't want to look at him; were repulsed, or frightened. Kurt knew this wasn't the truth, but he couldn't help it; that was how he _felt._

    "Yeah, vell, don't be. I should be used to it by now." Kurt said. Ouch. He saw Amara flinch at the harshly said words, and immediately felt guilty, but not before a strong feeling of satisfaction at making her uncomfortable. This satisfaction soon turned into pure sullen anger in a matter of seconds in which silence passed slowly between the two teenagers. Amara opened her mouth to say something, but quickly closed it a second later, looking tremendously uncomfortable and fidgety.

  "Were you always like that?" Amara blushed when Kurt stared at her again, and reworded it, speaking thickly and stumbling over her words. "I – i mean, did you always look so…"

  "Blue? And furry?" Kurt laughed humorlessly. "Ja, actually. Zis vatch is just a disguise. Mein mutti is blue, too - sometimes. Family resemblance, and all that." His tone switched almost instantly, to a darker, hollow voice. "Vell, she _says_ so, anyvays."  

      The sentence only confused the heck out of Amara, and Kurt, catching her clueless look, said dryly, "You'll find out soon enough, freulein. Mutti is not a very inconspicuous person, even if she wants to be."

  "I don't want to find out. I want to go back home, and forget everything." Amara sighed. "I don't belong here. This place is so different from home, so foreign…I feel like an alien." 

  Kurt grinned, and Amara caught a glimpse of sharp teeth that glinted in the light. "I zink zat is vhy ve are all here, Amara. Zat is your name, right?" Amara nodded, and at that moment, noted his arm with a start. 

"Did you do that to yourself?" Amara shrieked. Kurt looked away. "Ja." He said in a low voice. "It's nothing." Amara scoffed. "I'm sure it is." The German native tilted his head and offered her a probing look with his yellow eyes that seemed to be staring straight through her and inside. That frightened Amara more than his demonic eye color; that he might be able to read her emotions, completely see her. "You are zhe one from Nova Roma, huh?" Kurt said softly. 

    Amara remembered her dignity at that moment, and lifted her head as customary. "**Princess of Nova Roma, actually." She said proudly, drawing herself up. Kurt laughed at her; genuinely laughed, and Amara reddened momentarily with anger, before realizing she was here to apologize, not blow up, and smiled feebly. Kurt jumped off the balcony with a dancer's grace, Amara noted with surprise, and flaunted a showy bow that ended in a flourish of his tail. It was better than any suitor in Nova Roma's. He offered her a hand – a two-fingered, furry blue hand. But Amara shocked herself by not even recoiling or flinching a bit, taking the extended hand and showed off her best curtsy, giggling with pleasure. He kissed her hand with exaggerated etiquette, and grinned again, flashing that devilish smile. **

       "Would you care for a dance, my lady?" Kurt whispered, and twirled her around with his hand without waiting for an answer. Amara followed the leading spin of their entwined hands, and the two fell into a step that eased into a natural waltz. It still astonished Amara at the effortless attitude of Kurt's movement, and the grace he displayed with his oddly shaped feet – paws – whatever. Then, Kurt took them off into an endless repetition of elegant spins that made Amara's long hair twirl about her shoulders. She was certain that the high feeling in her gut was out of pleasure and delight; the most she had taken in since she had come to this country. She was also certain that the moment that they stopped twirling, Amara would feel dizzy and sick. But she didn't, when they halted at the door of Kurt's room. Kurt stepped back, and raised her hand to his face and brought it to his lips once more. Amara reveled in the momentary feeling of soft fur - the softest kind of fur in the world, probably – brushing her skin, before he dropped it and grinned – he always looked like he was grinning deviously, even if he was smiling in the nicest possible way. His teeth made it look that way. His arm that was holding her revealed a close view of the raw fleshy tissue covered in coarsely dried blood. She felt a pang of guilt; something she hadn't felt for a rather long time.

  "Apology accepted, Königstochter." Kurt said, and closed the door. [3]

     Amara took a deep breath like she had done upon entering Kurt's room. In the very least, she accomplished what she had set out to do. And she had learned something that almost every girl learned after meeting Kurt: German accents actually _are _sexy. [4]

[1] – I just find it funny that never once, in the entire series, did they mention Kitty being Jewish. Did they just randomly decide she'd be one in that 'On Angel's Wings' episode? I'd much rather see the Brotherhood stealing a Christmas tree and Fred being rushed off to the emergency room from eating too much tinsel than Kitty lighting a menorah. What? I'm just saying what we all want!

[2] – *singing* He was a sk8er boi, she said see ya later boi… ACK! *gets mauled by skateboards and Black Sabbath guitars*

[3] – Königstochter: Basically translates to princess, according to mein schwester's German dictionary. Okay, there was also Prinzessin in there, but I think Königstochter sounds way cooler.

[4] – Umm, not really. There was this German exchange student at my school, and he spit a lot. I dunno; maybe that was just his thing. I'm just trying to prove the point that Kurt really is kind of a special guy, at least in my opinion. He knows how to make a girl feel special. I might possibly be drawing more from comic verse than anything, but who cares? Certainly not the hordes of Kurt fan girls, am I right? Now, Pietro and Remy fan girls, on the other hand – they're much more rabid and scary… 

Closing A/N: So…how 'bout that brief Amara/Rahne catfight, eh guys? See, I DO listen to y'all! At least, those of you who said that Rahne and Amara wouldn't get along any better than Amara and Jubilee would. So consider this encouragement to contribute! But be warned; if you downright insult me, my monkey sponge will come after you…and so will RUSSELL, THE TALKING BANANA!! Or maybe even Chester, the child molester. (who lives in a box in the swamplands near my house.)* Erg… ignore me. Now. Before you all go insane. NOOGLE-DEE-DOOGLE-DEE-DOO!!!    

     * - all three of those listed entities/talking inanimate objects/fake real-life people are my muses. Obey them now, and you will be left alone during my conquest for world domination. Heck, you might even be awarded with the title of Court Sanitation Coordinator! …AKA king of garbage men. 

 Fun Fact: Eiffel 65 – the music artist(s) that is featured in this chapter, apparently is one of Bobby's favorite bands, according to a bio I read somewhere. FURR-EEKY!!

2nd Fun Fact: Did You Know?: Ronald McDonald once had a homoerotic fixation with the Hamburgler. (I kid, I kid. It was actually with the massive purple blob.)


	4. Sic Transit Gloria Glory Fades

"My name is Roberto. I am 15. I am not a mute."

                                                - Roberto Da Costa

**Turn, Smile, Shift, Repeat**

A/N: Wee. I finally, FINALLY saw X2. Excuse me while I go skip away happily and hum songs from Sound of Music. LALALALALA! Oh, and in case any of you don't know already (and you should!): official news about X-Men: Evolution is coming out on Tuesday, according to ComicsContinuum.com! Now, be good little fans, cross your fingers, and hope for the best. If they kept us in suspense for that long, only to say no, there WILL be blood and murder involved.

  ~*~ Reviewer Responses ~*~

Calamari Rings – Aww, you're not a Kurt fan? I just watched X2 (I'm going to mention that throughout this chapter, just to let y'all know) and this movie only reinforced my love for him. But sadly, Kurt, you'll always be a step behind Scott and the Brotherhood. No one can beat the Brotherhood. I am a rabid Brotherhood/Scooter/Arcade/New Recruit guys/Paul fan girl. And about Kurt/Amara… THIS WILL NOT BE A COUPLE IN MY STORY. Yechh. Although, now that you mention random pairings, Amara/Amanda might be fun. Kekekekeke…I am EEEVILLL. *runs off to write a Tabitha/Amara/Amanda/Kurt twisted love story* Oh, and I SO know who you are now!! Hahah… your art is awesome, by the way. But I've already told you that before. *wink wink*

Risty – No one can resist the Jamester's charm! He is, in fact, the MOST POWERFUL MUTANT IN DA WORLD! Right now, I really have no idea who Rahne's going to end up with at this point of the story. I used to like Sam/Rahne more, but that's kind of changed since my obsession with the Bobby/Sam 'horsey'-ness… but I can guarantee you; in one way or another, you'll be surprised by the couples in the end. ^^

Snitter in Rivendell – Indeed, they do. To see Russell the talking/rotting banana in full, kick ass action, read Asylin the Insane's 'A Day in the Life of a Mutant'! Except I think she changed her username…hmm. Anyways, thanks for all the reviews and compliments! You're making me blush! *blushes* See??

Chaotic Boredom – Heh… I made the chapter quote with you in mind, Chaotic, you silly Canadian, you. ^^ Evan's younger than Kitty?? Huh, didn't know that… you know what's better than 'cronies'? POSSE!! POSSEPOSSEPOSSE!!! …poke his eye out with the stick in Scott's arse… PFFFT. You bring such light and joy in my life, did you know that?

Deeply Insane Taz – Nyeeeee, I know who you are too! *pokes* Logan is a lumberjack man, of course. I mean, come on! He's from Canada! He likes pancakes, too… I mean flapjacks… thanks for the review!

Queen of the Jungle – …you people are hanging around my fics too much. The puns are getting to you, ARREEEEEN'T THEEEEYYYY?!!! *ominous music plays* Thanks for the review!

lisette793 – See? People AGREE with me! Jamie will take over the world one day, but only after me, of course. And Russell's already taken over the world – you just don't know it yet. *laughs evilly*

Camille – You review; me love you! *dances* Fwee hee! I'm already becoming a Dr. Seuss! 

Andivari – I'm glad my fic gets your stamp of approval! ^^ Hee; the omake was really just a stupid thing… it's completely unrelated to the fic, and often makes no sense. I think the 'younger set of Brotherhood' is a good idea, but should be pushed back for a few chapters. Right now, I want my fic to be accurate with the series. ^^ Thanks soooo much for reading my story!

RahneMan – You want to know a random pairing? DUNCAN/ARCADE!! That is the single greatest random pairing EVAH! And I'm proud to say that I invented it. (I think…I hope…) Legion of…poison monkeys?? Okay, I'm officially scared. O_O (No worries! My muse, the MONKEY SPONGE, will defend me!! Nyaaaa! ~)

Raskolian Phoenix – I'll tell you the same thing I told Risty: "Right now, I really have no idea who Rahne's going to end up with at this point of the story. I used to like Sam/Rahne more, but that's kind of changed since my obsession with the Bobby/Sam 'horsey'-ness… but I can guarantee you; in one way or another, you'll be surprised by the couples in the end. ^^" … I could've just told you to read Risty's review respone. MYEH!! Thanks for the review, as always.

Cheesy Monkey – OW! HEY!! Russell'll get you for that!! MARK MY WORDS!!! … Sorry. Villainous side got to me again. Yay! Another person to add my fic to their favorites! Except this one SMACKED it. Which is pure and awesome and goody. Thanks for the review!   

Dark Jaded Rose – I'm actually a Happy!Kurt Fan. I suppose you could say I wrote that scene partly to appease the Kurt fans… ahh! I can't believe I just admitted that…I FEEL LIKE SUCH A SLUT!!! *cries* 

StarryEyedDragon – Nooo! Of course you're not… well, actually, I don't know. Are you? If you make voodoo dolls of the characters with corn cobs and cream cheese and then proceed to burn a doll replica of the said characters' love interests, then yes, you probably are rabid and scary. But how would I know? 

animeluvr1 – Yeah, I know. That's why Kitty can't eat it, and said so. … that's what I wrote, isn't it?  *checks* Maybe I should've worded it better, but yeah; I know. Thanks for the general knowledge, though. ^^ To avoid confusion, people should just add the word 'MALE' or 'FEMALE' to the end of their usernames. Except I had a friend whose AIM screen name was MANLOVE, so people could never really tell if he was a guy or girl. Aah; good times, good times.

Shkspr1048 – Woot! New reviewer! Even if I'm not a fan of Kurt/Amara, it's true. There aren't enough of 'em! Thanks for the review!

Asylin – WEEEEEE! Asylin has come to review my humble little fic! And that's just swell. A poker game? I must warn you, Russell cheats. He CHEATS! Don't ask me how he cheats, though. He doesn't have eyes, just indents where the red m&ms fell off. Good gravy - Asylin thinks I'm a better writer than her! (LikeWHOA!) Nonsense, Asy, my dear. (Asy? How would you pronounce that…) Your fics are quite spank-alicious. So there. (I want a bubble pipe!)

_The fever, the focus.__  
The reasons that I had to believe  
you weren't too hard to sell.  
Die young and save yourself.  
The tickle, the taste of...  
It used to be the reason I breathed  
but now it's choking me up.  
Die young and save yourself.  
  
She hits the lights.  
This doesn't seem quite fair.  
Despite everything he learned from his friends,  
he doesn't feel so prepared.  
She's breathing quiet and smooth.  
He's gasping for air.  
"This is the first and last time," he says.  
She fakes a smile and presses her hips into his.  
He keeps his hands pinned down at his sides.  
He's holding back from telling her  
exactly what it really feels like.  
  
He is the lamb, she is the slaughter.  
She's moving way too fast and all he wanted was to hold her.  
Nothing that he tells her is really having an effect.  
He whispers that he loves her,  
but she's probably only looking for…_

-- Brand New (Deja Entendu) … "Sic Transit Gloria…Glory Fades"

Chapter 4: Sic Transit Gloria…Glory Fades

      Rogue had never been much of a night person. You might assume she was, considering her dark clothes, dark make-up, dark disposition, and generally her dark reputation, but she wasn't. In fact, she often beat Kitty as the first one up, throwing back the curtains for some crisp, fresh air, which greatly annoyed the younger girl, who had a surprisingly vulgar mouth in the mornings when she didn't want to be woken up and/or cold. 

   That being said, it was kind of irritating to _not _be a morning person when you were constantly plagued by nightmares that weren't your own and woke up every couple hours in a cold sweat, only to fall back asleep and awaken again. And people wondered why she wore so much purple make-up. Maybe because there's _already enough purple under her eyes._

  Tonight, it was Fred. She used to make a game of it – betting which person whom she had touched would haunt her thoughts for that night. The idea of it is awful, but Rogue had to try to bring some humor or some other emotion than sadness into it, or else she would've turned into some kind of nonchalant piece of rock, no longer human. She didn't play that guessing game any more though – she had absorbed too many people, too many nightmares, to even attempt trying to bring a lighter side to the business. 

       Right when she got to the part where Fred had accidentally killed the class hamster's baby and big, fat tears began pouring out of his eyes as the teacher snatched the tiny hamster's limp body out of his hands, she suddenly opened her eyes. There was a mild pattering of rain against the windows. The neon light of the alarm clock silently blinked on and off on the bedside table next to her, flashing **4:07 in bold green. On the bed next to her, Kitty snored lightly, the blankets atop of her gently rising and falling in a rhythmic pattern.  **

     The steady beating of rain drops increased in volume and noise. Rogue sighed, knowing it was futile to try to go back to bed, and wiggled out of her blankets and tip-toed across the floor and to the door. Water sounded good right about now.

   Hearing her own two bare feet shuffling slowly across the floor made her think of a dream she had two nights ago – one of Pietro's memories. The dream – memory – whatever the hell it was, featured the silver-haired speedster dragging his feet, clad in chains, across the floor towards an open door full of light. She could feel the strain of every step he took, the pain that stabbed his lungs every other second, as he slowly, slowly walked across the cold floor towards the door. As he got closer, a shadowed figure began taking shape in the open door. He loomed closer; it was a little girl, hardly 7 years old, with her raven black hair in two tidy pigtails, and bright, cerulean eyes that matched Pietro's, eye for eye. Just as he closed the distance between himself and the girl, and he stretched out an arm, the door slammed shut. 

  Rogue sighed as she cruised down the steps of the stairs. When would she ever be able to contemplate on a dream that was hers and hers alone, and not someone else's? With a small smirk, she wondered what Jean dreamt about, what with her increasing complaints that people 'thought' too loud. Perhaps she heard voices in her sleep too… obviously different ones than Rogue's, though. She flicked the kitchen lights on, and jumped. 

  The stranger jumped as well, the moment the lights had flicked on. But it was no stranger – it was one of the new recruits. Rogue allowed a sigh of relief to escape before scowling again. 

 "Are yeh trying to sneak around or somethin'?" Rogue snapped. The boy shook his head, looking unusually pale and wide-eyed. He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but quickly closed it. 

  "What, are yeh mute?" Rogue arched an eyebrow at him. His face flushed, and he stared down at the floor, red with embarrassment, anger – something of the like.

      For once, Rogue felt bad. He was new around the place, and obviously uncomfortable. 

 _Rogue,_ she thought to herself as her dam began to break, _You're getting soft. Well, the moment he did get comfortable, there would be no more nice Rogue, definitely._

   She sighed. "Don't be sneakin' around here like yeh're some kinda thief, kid." She shuffled towards the cupboard and searched for a cup. "Yeh're livin' here now, so act like it." 

 If that was Rogue's definition of soft, then many would be frightened to know what 'frigid' was for her. A brief pause followed, while Rogue hunted for a clean cup.

"I'm not a kid." 

   Rogue pretended to nearly drop the mug she held in her hands. "The mute speaks!" She exclaimed. Well, her sarcasm hadn't let up any. 

  "My name is Roberto. I am 15. I am not a mute." 

 "Ah was jus' kiddin', k – Roberto." Her accent twisted and mangled the name up so it sounded odd, and Roberto blinked, lifting his head to meet hers. His dark brown eyes, that many a girl in Brazil had fallen for, head-over-heels, looked shifty and nervous to Rogue. His dark skin _was a bit abnormally pale, and even though any person would be tired being up at that hour, there were two purple-ish bags blooming underneath his attractive brown eyes. Rogue frowned._

    "Are yeh okay? Yeh don't look so good." 

 Roberto looked down once more. "I'm fine. I just came down to get some water." 

"Well, did yeh get it?"

  He blushed again. "I…couldn't find a cup. Can…"

"Don't even need teh ask, 'Berto." She grabbed another mug from the cupboard, and tossed it at him. He leaned forward and fumbled for it, nearly dropping the object in the process.

 Rogue had already poured tap water into her cup, and set the water aside on the counter. She opened the fridge, brightening up the dimly lit room, and out of Roberto came an involuntary shudder of cold that went unnoticed by the other. 

   She reappeared with her hands full with a plate containing the leftovers of the cake from Kitty's birthday. It was white and pink, it was sugary sweet, and it even had pink flowers decorated on the sides…but it tasted good, so it mattered naught to Rogue if it had been black and blue or peachy keen. (A/N: Yes, there is a color called 'peachy keen'. I SWEAR IT!!)

  "Want some? It's gonna get mauled bah Kurt and Evan tomorrow, Ah just know it, so it'd be best tah take what yeh can right now." 

   Roberto would've thrown himself into a lake if Rogue had asked him to at that moment; he'd rather do anything than go back to bed that night. So he nodded, even if he wasn't really hungry, but then, Rogue wasn't either. She was just stalling for the same reasons Roberto was, even if they themselves did not know it – she would do anything than go back to sleep and let the nightmares claim her.

    He was about to search for some plates when the goth-esque girl stopped him, and set a fork down on the chair next to her at the island counter. 

 "Cake tastes better with just forks anyways." Rogue shrugged. He hesitated for a moment, before pulling up the chair and digging in. 

   "What's your power anyway?" Rogue asked.

 "…I absorb the sun's power. That gets me strength… speed … I'm not sure what else yet. I guess that's why I'm here." 

  Rogue widened her eyes. "No wondah yeh look horrible." She said bluntly. "Night must be hell for yeh."

Roberto shrugged. "…Not really. I mean, it definitely makes me more uncomfortable, but it just makes me restless and hard for me to fall asleep." 

  "So why do yeh look so awful?" Rogue asked with a touch of humor in her voice, her eyes on the cake. "Monsters under the bed tah get yeh?"

 "What's your name, anyways?" Roberto asked, hoping to change the subject.

"Rogue."

  "Rogue?" Roberto said dubiously. The only reply he received was excessively loud chewing. Roberto knew well enough what the signs were when someone didn't want to talk to you. Heck, 'knowing well enough' was just icing on the cake. (A/N: PUH-…un.) He was the king of 'I-Don't-Want-To-Talk-To-You signs.' and merely turned back to the cake. He found Rogue's fork stabbing into it.

 "Ah don't know." Rogue said, her voice sounding frustrated. "Ah always asked mah fostah mothah, but Irene would jus' shake her head and say that was what mah real mom called meh." Rogue laughed. "And like hell Ah'm just gonna waltz over tah the Brotherhood and ask Mystique why she named meh Rogue. "Besides," and Rogue shoved a piece of frosting-encrusted cake into her mouth, "Mystique went missing this summah anyways, so there's no point." 

   Roberto had a bewildered look on his face, and Rogue, seeing it, smirked at him.

 "Yeh'll find out who **they are soon enough, don't worreh." Rogue drawled. **

As if her words could get any spookier and more prophetic, lightning flashed at that moment, and an earth-shaking thunder rumbled throughout the house, cutting the power out. The kitchen lights went out, and Roberto gulped. 

 "Feelin' restless?"

"No, artificial light doesn't do anything for me. I just… don't like the dark." 

     "Scott had nightmares about the dark," Rogue said quietly, more to herself than anything. "When he was 11, he ran away from the orphanage, and some older kids started hasslin' him. They knocked off his glasses, an' Scott was smart enough to keep his eyes closed. But they just started to beat him up and he couldn't do a single thing, bein' blind and all. And that's when Jack found him. Jack promised to get him some food, some clothes, maybe some shelter for a couple days, and replacements for his broken ruby quartz glasses, all in this nice, mature adult voice, and Scott believed him. But after he got some food, some clothes, some shelter for a couple days, he kept on using the 'debt' card, sayin' once Scott did a little mission for him, he'd go get him some ruby quartz for his eyes. Over and over, and Scott felt helpless, and listened tah him, all the while blind as a bat…he had nightmares for weeks, even after the Professor found him." Rogue closed her eyes, looking tired all of a sudden. 

"Why'd yeh listen to him, Scott? Anythin' would've been better than bein' with him… anythin'…" 

    A lengthy silence prevailed as the two teenagers sat in the dark kitchen. Roberto's fork laid on the counter, forgotten, and Rogue's own was still in midair, as if she were in a trance.

 "How…how do you know all that?" Roberto asked.

  "Mah powers." Rogue said shortly. "Ah absorb people's powers and memories by touchin' them. They can't be controlled." As if to prove a point, she moved her bare hand further away from Roberto's. 

 "I'm sorry." Roberto said. He wasn't really sure what else to say. What else **could** he say?

"Well, Ah must admit," Rogue laughed hollowly, "Ah could be a first-rate shrink, with all of the memories I have locked up in mah head that Ah look ovah. Let me guess… your dad left yeh and your almost-dead mom tah fend for yourself when you were a baby?" 

   A young boy with unruly brown hair and the scruffiest pair of jeans in the world ran with all his might from the store behind him, collapsed to mere rubble and debris, running in and out of Rogue's mind as a fleeting memory. 

 "Actually, my mother died and I live with my father."

"And your fathah hates yeh?" Rogue asked.  

   "No, he doesn't." Roberto's eyes turned slightly steely.

"Well, **someone must've." Rogue said coldly, the image of a 7-year old boy with furry blue on him from head to toe and a demonic forked tail swishing cautiously around him, backing up against a wall, surrounded by a jeering, unfriendly crowd that was swelling in size by the second.**

  "It happens. Not everyone can like you." Roberto coolly shot back, his expression betraying his tone.

"Then what? Did **you** hate your parents? Your friends disappeared?"     

     A rather plain-looking girl with frizzy hair the color of a ripened carrot cried pitifully into her pillow, her friend's cries haunting her thoughts like a freakish ghost.

  "Ah've heard about twenty different sob stories, 'Berto." Rogue said in a mean voice. "Yours can't be any different or worse."   

  What happened next was either the most incidental of coincidences, or a stroke of irony in the hands of fate, or perhaps Lance had just woken up in the ratty Brotherhood dwelling with stomach pains rapidly approaching diarrhea from Fred's tuna lunch soup surprise. But the earth shook, and thus the mansion shook, as if the large house was a giant being shivering from goose bumps lined up on its metaphorical arms and legs and its internal residents calmly sleeping and blissfully unaware of the bleak cold outside. Nothing really happened, but for maybe the fact that Jamie was pushed up uncomfortably against Bobby, but was not disturbed by it at all, except for the said latter, who was now trapped against the wall with not one, but two other companions on the bed. The power went back on at that exact moment as well.

 Oh, and Rogue and Roberto simultaneously flew towards each other and Roberto's hand brushed Rogue's porcelain skin, if only for a millisecond. And in the middle of the occurence, they were suddenly bathed in the fluorescent, albeit somewhat dim, lights of the kitchen.

    Roberto instinctively jumped back, with impressive reflexes from his seasoned soccer training, but the transfer had already taken place. 

If the reader might remember the episode 'Spykecam' (a truly underrated episode, just like Retreat, if only because they both feature a character that the majority of the X-Men: Evolution population dislikes), Rogue was prompted by Evan to absorb Kitty's jive turkey, while Kitty would bring up thoughts in her noodle about said dancing mojo. Doing so would only require an instant of touch, without the slight hindrance of Kitty falling into a bedridden coma, and in this case, Roberto was thinking about his 'sob story' when the exchange took place. Mind, there are many occasions in the series where Rogue touches a person for about the same length of time that she did with Kitty and that person gets knocked out cold, but nobody really cares, because it's SPYKECAM, and that episode doesn't count for anything because of its spectacular suckiness. (But some people say that about Retreat, and that episode kicked ass! Especially considering soaked, matted hair Roberto. Heck, some people don't like Joyride! Who can resist Joyride?! It was the closest thing that we ever got in the series to Lance wearing cut-off shorts and washing the Jeep! But I digress.)

  Roberto was feeling woozy, but in that weird sense, it had sharpened his senses; similar to when you get injured while sleepy, like maybe tripping down some stairs after having just woken up from bed, and after a painful, bumpy fall, you feel more awake than a shower could ever offer you. Not that I've ever done that, of course. The little sleepiness that had been clouding up in the back of his head while lounging in the dark kitchen eating cake had disappeared, so he muttered a hushed "Boa noite" and darted out of the now-lit kitchen and disappeared into the safety of shadows from under Rogue's eye.        

    Rogue was left standing there in the lit kitchen alone for some-and-so minutes, trying to calm her quickened, harsh breathing and struggle to stand still and not fall over; a losing battle. Her head was always a bit jumbled after absorption – like all of her other psyches had begun to fuss and move around inside of her, trying to make room for the newcomer while grumbling about the inadequate space. In fact, that was the perfect way to describe how she felt sometimes – like there wasn't any more room in her hotel, and the occupants were complaining and getting too out of control for just one person.  

      It was a rather cheesy metaphor, but that was the only way she could think of to describe it. Once the dizzy feeling had disappeared, Rogue left also, abandoning the cake on the counter and not really caring that everyone would soon awaken to the cries of Kurt crying about 'his' cake. She opened the door to her room very carefully, praying that the typical squeaks would go unnoticed. For a moment, Kitty's breathing stopped, as did Rogue's, which froze up in apprehension, but the girl merely mumbled and rolled to her other side. the digital clock flashed a bright neon green **4:37. It had to be around 5 o'clock by then. Since the electricity had returned, the rain had ceased from its thunder-and-lightning rainstorm, and become a light rain that gently tapped at the windows. Kitty softly murmured something that sounded remarkably like "Lance".**

   And as soon as she had gotten under her bed covers, Rogue began crying.

 "You big dummy." Juliana laughed, perched atop the aged wall and swinging her long legs as a disgruntled Roberto brushed the dirt off his shirt. "I **told** you to watch your step. There's mud all over here. But nooooo; Mister Roberto Da Costa doesn't fear anything!"

  "It's a good thing I don't, too, or else you would've died a long time ago." Roberto grumbled, looking mournfully at his ruined jeans. "What the hell was that stunt you pulled back there?"

 "Careful; watch your language, irmão pequeno." teased Juliana, flipping her long brown hair behind her shoulder. Roberto's stony glare deepened, if that were even possible. 

 "Geez, lighten up, Roberto." Juliana said. "I was just kidding. We ditched school! Let's live a little."   

"**You ditched school. You just dragged me into it." **

  "You could've left me if you wanted to. It wasn't like those bullies were harassing _you_. You aren't the one carrying a purse and wearing a skirt. Even though you'd probably look good in them…" Roberto turned around and stood directly across from the sitting Juliana. In her position, he was actually a little bit taller than her, instead of her being a little taller than him. 

 "That's not funny." Roberto said. "Those guys were creepy. We're lucky I'm alive and have my slick soccer skills to dodge people. We're lucky you carry a brick in your purse, too." 

 "Oh, shut up. I'd like to see **you try walking around in a skirt." After a thoughtful pause, she continued. "On second thought, I wouldn't. But you're pretty enough to, I suppose." **

"I'm starting to wish I just left you with those thugs." Roberto said dryly. Juliana stopped swinging her legs and looked closely at him. Roberto suddenly felt uncomfortably close to her; far closer than he was used to.

"But you didn't." Juliana's smile was gleaming like the sun itself. "Thanks for saving my life." 

 "Yeah. Guess I'm a hero now, huh?" Roberto joked, his voice croaking a bit. 

     "Guess so." She leaned in closer. 

It was an odd place for a first kiss, when Roberto thought back to it. An old abandoned mission that was going to be torn down for some factory in a couple weeks -- and with him caked with mud. Oh yeah. _Real_ romantic.

  "What the hell was that stunt you pulled back there?!"  

"Watch your language, Keller." Roberto said calmly. The tall white boy towered over Roberto, his hands gripped into tight fists and held back as if he were about to hit him. Roberto's words only seemed to make the blonde boy angrier. 

  The two were known as rivals, and uncannily similar, personality-speaking. Both were born into very wealthy, well-to-do families – in fact, Mr. Keller was known to have done business with Emmanuel Da Costa more than once. Both were hot-tempered and armed with a short fuse. And both had a talent for running on the soccer field. There was perhaps one primary difference between the two, physical appearances aside – Roberto was the star of his soccer team, and Keller wasn't. Roberto was the one that many of the girls swooned over, with his sulky 'pout', as girls fondly called it, eyes that smoldered when riled up or were excited, and athletic, if a bit on the short side, frame. He was the crowd-pleaser and favorite to watch during games. And he was the one who had Juliana. 

     The two were from different schools, different teams, but they knew each other well enough. Every year or so, they met up at one tournament or another, and this dated back to grade school. Sometimes Keller's team would win; and sometimes Roberto would pull off his typical miracle just before the final whistle would blow, and wow the audience with his trademark flashy, more-complicated-than-necessary footwork. Most times, their teammates tried to pull them away from each other and avoid them meeting up, but sometimes it was unavoidable and they would get into a serious fistfight, with both coming out with an injury as a token of their manliness. 

  Something was different this year, though. Roberto had Juliana now.

"Don't push it, Da Costa." Keller growled, and grabbed the front neck of Roberto's red jersey. This action caused Roberto's eyes to narrow. All of Juliana's pleading and advice to keep his cool and not let anything get to him flew out of his mind. 

  "You're the one that pushed me down, remember?" Roberto said coldly. "It was only fair for me to trip you." 

    The fact of the matter was, Keller had had the ball. Roberto had been right at his neck, sure to steal the ball right under his nose without him noticing and making him look like a fool. (An occurrence that had happened plenty times before.) Keller acted out of panic and instincts; he stretched a lanky arm out and shoved Roberto down. Surprisingly, the referee had done nothing – it was possible that he had been preoccupied with the scuffle going on in midfield, with the mid positions of opposing teams hitting one another with flying fists. But had the referee called out that obvious foul, Keller would've made the score a tie. It would be the first time to have not lost after two years in a row of losing to _The Suns, not to mention the first where Keller could really claim his glory. But no, instead, while the referee attempted to break up the fight taking place behind them, Roberto extended out a leg with remarkable swiftness, and tripped Keller. The ball missed the goal, the ref blew his whistle, and they had lost again. _

  Ben Keller was smarting over this fact. [1] And now, standing just in the back of the stadium after the game, with dusk quickly approaching and few people around, was his chance to get revenge.

 "You little brown shit bag," snarled Keller, and shoved Roberto back by pushing and releasing his hold on his shirt, causing Roberto to stumble a few steps back. Roberto gritted his teeth and was about to launch himself forward at him, when a voice called out.

   "Roberto!" 

 "Get away, Juliana." Roberto said in a low voice. Juliana, of course, acted as if she hadn't heard him, as was expected. She never listened to Roberto, and that was something he loved about her as well as cursed. 

    "Roberto, Ben, stop it! This isn't worth it, over a stupid soccer game!" She yelled.  

 "This isn't about soccer. This, I'm going to do for everyone's benefit." Keller said with a smile on his face. With that, he swung a fist that collided with Roberto's face. 

   Although stars weren't exactly blinking in front of his eyes, there was a sort of pain that was null and numb and another layered behind it, the one that was biting and pinching with sharp pain. Roberto thought hazily that he had maybe heard Juliana scream, but his ears were ringing. Keller had never hit this hard – and as proof, his nose began to bleed, and he was sure there was something that was going to be the lovely color of purple by morning. 

  Roberto lunged forward and punched the other boy in the gut, making him groan and clutch his stomach in pain. With this distraction, he delivered a swift uppercut to the chin, causing Keller to stagger backwards. 

   "STOP IT!" Juliana's screams were heard without the listeners paying any heed. A couple blows later, stamina had decreased, but the fight was still going on with increasing rage and ferocity.

 Something very strange was going on with Roberto in the mean time. He felt tired, but every time a cloud stopped blocking the sun and moved out of the way, he felt strength flow back into his limbs. 

  And then, at one point, an even stranger thing happened. A knife had come out. 

 It happened very quickly; so quickly, that Roberto hadn't even realized what had happened until he felt a sharp prick of pain in his stomach, and after that, shock had taken over. It was as if he had blinked, and then the next moment, Juliana stood in front of him, very still. He felt his shirt get soaked with blood – the only problem was, he wasn't sure if it was his or hers. 

     Keller stood there, wide-eyed with shock. He snatched his red-drenched hands away, and stared at the couple in horror. Then, Juliana made a little sound that was a sort of sigh, and fell back against Roberto. He felt the sharp pain get deeper. A strangled sob leaped out of his throat when he turned her over. The knife was stabbed deeply into Juliana's stomach, down to its hilt. He heard Keller run away, but didn't come after him. Instead, he laid her heavy, limp body against his and cried. [2]

[1] – Made up the first name. 'Keller' is a name I gathered from the information on marveldirectory.com (a true godsend for a little comic n00b like me), and I decided that it was a surname and not his first name. Because I'm cool like that. And because I can.

[2] – If that death scenario sounds familiar… well, that's because it is. Ten cool points and an oatmeal cookie for anyone who knows where I copped it from!

A/N: I missed SNL because I was so deeply concentrating on finishing this chapter.

 Don't _ever_ say I don't love you guys. 

  Alright, final comments: The truth is, this chapter was originally twice as long. In fact, it was getting longer all while I typed, so I decided to split it up into two. This chapter was SUPPOSED to be about the new recruits meeting the Brotherhood, but I guess I got so wrapped up into 'Berto's storyline that I typed out way more than I expected. So the BH-meets-NMs chapter will be next time, monkeys… I'm almost finished, and anticipate for an update by this Friday! (If the whole X-Men: Evolution decision thing works out for the better, it might even come out on Wednesday!) 


	5. The Science of Selling Yourself Short

"Ja. For a 12-year old, he's such a pimp."

                        - Kurt Wagner

**Turn, Smile, Shift, Repeat**

A/N: Well, apparently my eternal optimism has been for naught. I will say no more about the cancellation of Evo other than within this week, someone will be getting a flaming bag of dog crap on their front porch. ^____^ This'll probably get me writing Evo stuff more than ever now, so your heart may be at ease… or in pain… whatever. And what'd you know? I kept my promise, Asylin! NYAA! 

  Someone e-mailed me about 'Roberto/Rogue'-ness, and I assure everyone there won't be any of that. It's the same case as the 'Kurt/Amara' stuff. And – well, I'm kind of tired of that belief, that when two characters receive characterization together, they're in love! It doesn't always work that way. Just look at Frodo and Sam! Scooby and Shaggy! SPONGEBOB AND PATRICK!!! Wait, I saw a fic about that pairing recently around here. Scratch that last one.

 I can't believe no one's figured out where the death scene comes from, yet! I know it's a little bit vague, but surely not THAT vague, right? Tsk, tsk, my little monkeys. Do none of you know your anime? 

   Grawr. I have to reload all of my stories to replace the dotdotDOTS thingies and stop making my fic look so newbish and stuff. But I don't keep my old chapters saved on my computer, so I'll have to replace the dotdotDOTS by myself. ...On the other hand, I'm far too lazy. BLAH.  

  ~*~ Reviewer Responses ~*~

 Calamari Rings – ARGH! I know, stupid A/Ns in the middle of a deep, serious soliloquy from a moody angst character… I ALWAYS do those, and there are ALWAYS people that go "Naughty, naughty, Poptart! That's the sign of a bad writer!" But, I swear, I really did cut back on those since I first started writing! Yes, yes, I know the chapter dragged on – if I hadn't split up the chapter into 2, it would've REALLY dragged on. Another BH fan?? WOOT!! I wub my Brotherhood. Yes, the Brotherhood is da best thing ever. They're the hottest thing since sliced cheese. You've found Lance!Angst fics around here??! Well, I certainly haven't. Ah, but you forgot an important factor that is around in ALL Rogue!Angst fics… DA PSYCHES TAKE OVER HER LIKE LITTLE RED ANTS AND MAKE HER KILL! KEEEELLL! Um, but first, they let her get kinky with Remy/Pietro/the first attractive character she sees. THEN THEY KEEEEELLL!!!

Caliente – Romeo and Juliet? Really? I need to go read the play again or something. Anyways…YAY! You came back! That makes me one happy evil poptart. Thanks for reviewing!

RahneMan – Hey! NO VOODOO MONKEY BUSINESS!!!

StarryEyedDragon – Yeah, and truth be told, voodoo dolls scare me very much, so it's a good thing you don't, right? (See above reviewer response…)

me – No, I didn't… there's a line between using someone's work as inspiration, and downright copying it. ^^ See, I don't like Roguey angst… that was why it was so hard for me to get that chapter out, so I tried to emphasize the Roberto angst… Thanks for the review!  

Cheesy Monkey – Huh. That's funny; my friend gets these mad 'gorilla' eyes, as he calls it, sometimes. 

Raskolian Phoenix – I can't guarantee you that there won't be any slash in this fic, because there might. Hope that doesn't turn you off from this fic… And there are SO many deaths in LotR, and the only one that I know that I'll remember forever and ever is the one with Gollum… I didn't just spoil it for anyone, did I? 

Lisette793 – Well, typically, the people who don't like Joyride most are a) Pietro/Kitty shippers, b) Kurt/Kitty shippers, c) Piotr/Kitty shippers, and… umm, whoever else their preferred guy to be paired up with Kitty is. Personally, I like Kurt/Kitty, but that doesn't change the fact that there is a joyful amount of New Recruit screen time in here. Or that Lance can shake the world. I mean, come on! It's my two favorite groups shaped together – Lance of da BRUDDAHOOD, and the NMs! And how cute was it; how Bobby, Sam, and Jubilee were hanging out with Lance like they idolized him? And anyways, the Lance/Kitty in that episode is cute. Even I, as a Kurt/Kitty 'shipper, can admit that. Thanks for the review!

The RP – Hah! I've been crossing my fingers, toes, eyes, hair (they were in braids today! I am GENIUS!), arms, legs, and nose! Yes, my nose. I know; I'm THAT talented. Despite that…it's cancelled. Marf. Thanks for reviewing.

Risty – A lot of people have been saying that! Tell me if I'm wrong: doesn't Juliet kill herself with poison after believing Romeo is dead, and when Romeo wakes up to find Juliet dead and gone, he kills himself? Maybe I'm just being stupid (HAH! HA! HA! I've never heard a more far-fetched idea! …fools…), but I don't see how that's Romeo and Juliet. Blarg. I must go and find my book version of it. Thanks for the review!

Snitter in Rivendell – Rogue angst. Man, I remember back in the day, when I would be such a happy little poptart if I found just one well-written Rogue angst fic that wouldn't warp her accent so much that it would drive me crazy… nowadays, all you can see is "WAHHH!! AH'M SAW DEPRESSED!!! Hey look, uh cute, seengle swamp rat that wants meh! Naww; Ah'll just gaw ahead an' make mahself MO depressed bah not likin' heem. Oh – well, would yeh look at tha'! AH KIN TOUCH! Say, swamp rat, Ah bet yeh're uh meenks een bed!" I disturb myself with my cunning intelligence and accuracy. 

Jurassic Punk – I have a soft spot for Ray/Tabitha stories, actually, so it's likely that this'll be one too. But none of the couples are cemented in yet, so there is hope yet for you Ray/Amara or Ray/Caliban fans! :3 

Chaotic Boredom – Grim Reminders… is that the one with Wolverine? And Canada? Or something? Yeah, I don't watch the Wolverine-centered episodes – they kind of bore me. (I have yet to see the one with Captain America.) Band geek posse?! LET ME JOIN!!! I have a tuba! …that hasn't been touched for some years now…. 

Dark Jaded Rose – You can make absolutely any character an angst case. Except for X23. She's too darn happy, man – it's impossible to angst-ify her.

dstrbd child – Ray is the bomb diggity.

Ravyn Nyte – A HAT shaped duck?! DUDE! FRICKIN' AWESOME! 

Rogue14 – Aww. Thankies!

Andivari – Myeh; I really hate details. I'll try to keep better track next time anyways. 

Juliana Sandoval – If you didn't notice, I was trying to cut the last couple of review replies short so people could get to the story already, but you're a fan of JULIANA, so that's an exception. Juliana rocks. I love great minor characters that aren't paid attention to enough. I'll keep mentioning Juliana, as well as other background characters from the new recruits' respective pasts, but it won't be anything major, as it's kind of hard to write much stuff for a dead character, unless I cross into cheesy territory by bringing ghosts up. ^^ And Paige? Well, after I get the Season 2 and 3 storylines out of the way, we shall see…

animeluvr1 – Hey, I don't have any cool points. Any time people award me points, they're LAME points. =( Ah well, that's what I get for acting so… lame… all the time. Thanks for reviewing, as always. Y'all flatter me so. ^^

TheRogueWitch – Rain and Roberto is an amazingly wonderful combination, isn't it? Cat food. 

    Aren't I amazing? Those review responses were 4 pages of this entire chapter alone. -_-;

_I've come to my senses,  
That I've become senseless,  
I could give you lessons on how to ruin your friendships,  
Every last conviction, I smoked them all away,  
I drank my frustrations down the drain, out of the way,  
So I sit and wait and wonder,  
"Does anyone else feel like me?"  
Someone so tired of their routines and disappearing self-esteems_

_I could be an expert on co-dependency,  
I could write the best book on underage tragedy,  
I've been spending my time at the local liquor store,  
I've been sleeping nightly on my best friends kitchen floor,  
So I sit and wait and wonder,  
"Does anyone else feel like me?"  
I'm so over-dosed on apathy and burnt out on sympathy_

            - Less Than Jake (Anthem) … "The Science of Selling Yourself Short"

Chapter 5: The Science of Selling Yourself Short

            First days of school are prominently known as "sucktastic". Some people get a kick out of them, though. They look past the oncoming stress from homework, crabby teachers, horrible group partners for projects that are worth 40% of your grade, and pop quizzes, to look at the 'bright side of things'. They are well-known, and hated, as 'optimists.' Most people dislike them and their annoying, senseless blubber about how everything's going to be okay in the end. I will ask the reader to never mind and momentarily forget that the authoress herself is an optimist, for sake of storyline.

   Not many can fill the shoes of being an optimist, though. People seem to forget how difficult it is to be eternally optimistic and try to cheer people up all the time. Of course, it is the optimist's fault for bearing that responsibility onto their shoulders in the first place, but then, that is a key trait in being an optimist – stupidity. At least your normal, garden variety pessimist knows when to shut up. 

  Jean Grey was a strange kind of optimist. She was realistic – very realistic, in fact; and level-headed enough to know that everything **doesn't** turn out okay in the end. But she wanted to cheer everyone up anyways. What would be the point of doing that, the reader may ask? Why would anyone want to try to be cheerful for other people's sake when they already knew it would be pointless to do so?  

     This is where one of Rogue's typical pessimist comments came in: _She's fake._

  What one calls 'fake' is what another calls 'noble'. Some may see Jean as a strong, unwavering force that is sacrificing a bit of her own soul to make other people's days brighter. Others simply call her a phony. It's all a matter of opinion. The bottom line - being Jean Grey was tougher than people made it seem. 

 Her day starts out bright and early. Hit the snooze button (7:00) once, and get up to take a shower. Pick out a nice outfit. Go downstairs and prepare a light, but nutritionally-filling breakfast. Get a ride from Scott. And from all that, another perfect day of being perfect and envied begins.

  But we must keep in mind that not everyone is a Jean Grey. And the fact that this is a New Recruit-centered story, and not a Jean one. Elsewhere, mayhem rears its lovely head. [1]

  -----

   "School. I can't believe this. I _hate_ school. School is evil." Jubilee groaned.

 "Yeah, we've heard that before." Ray mumbled, fiddling with something in his pocket. Ever curious, Jubilee tried to sit up straighter in her seat to see, but Ray turned away to face his other side. Unfortunately, there sat Roberto, who stared outside at the rainy skies through the window. Ray frowned, and tried to stare straight ahead.

 "Could you keep quiet back there? I'm trying to finish my homework." Evan said from in the passenger seat, scribbling some illegible numerical nonsense on his crumply piece of paper. Jean frowned at the sight, while at the driver's seat, Scott belatedly steered the car through the rain. 

   "Can't you go faster, dude?" 

 "Sorry, - um…" 

  "Jubilee."

 "Sorry, Jubilee, but I'm responsible for everyone's safety, as the driver. If this car were to slip and spin to an untimely doom, it would be my fault and everyone's life." Scott explained calmly as he slowly turned the wheel to make a left.

  "What Scott is trying to say is, he's scared of dying so he's driving like my grandma." 

 "_Evan!_"

"What?"

        In the crowded van behind him, Ororo was at the wheel, while Jamie stared from across at her adoringly like she was the most interesting person in the world. Bobby was at the window's seat with the window rolled down, trying to show off for Amara, Tabitha, and Rahne by freezing the raindrops before they hit the ground. However, he wasn't getting much success. Rahne and Amara were glaring at each other, even going to the trouble of leaning forward in their seat to look across and over Sam and Tabitha. Also, Sam was uncomfortably close and squished against Tabitha, and he had an uneasy feeling that Tabitha knew this. 

   Ororo sensed the tension that was going on in the backseat from a strong aura that resonated from the teenagers. Also, she could look through the mirror. She cleared her throat. 

 "Would anyone like to listen to some music?" She asked pleasantly. Without waiting for an answer, she flicked the switch on. The van instantly lit up with the sounds of a symphony. Amara's face lit up as well. 

  "It's beautiful." She surmised. "I've never heard anything like it in Nova Roma." 

 Ororo smiled. "It's Moonlight Sonata, by Beethoven. Have you ever heard this?" Amara shook her head 'no'. Bobby sighed, louder than necessary.

   "Yes, Bobby?"

  "Would you mind changing the station? This really isn't my kind of music." 

"Of course. What station do you usually listen to? I'm open to any and all suggestions."

  Bobby abruptly leaped out of his seat ("GASP! You non-seat belt wearing monster!" said Jamie) and reached forward, stretching his arm forward and straining his fingers to reach the radio dial. A tiny, miniature icicle exploded from his finger and stabbed the dial. An outrageously loud volume of sound burst from the speakers, with an enticing beat and a magnetic voice that was digitalized with studio magic.

      "I'M BLUE, DA BA DEE DA BE DA, DA BA DA DEE DA BE DA…"

   "Turn it off! Turn it off!" Amara screamed. Sam clutched at his ears, trying to find his happy place where cowgirls in wet t-shirts ran amok alongside chimps that played banjos, while Tabitha instantly busted out some techno moves that she'd been wanting to show off for a while. Then, worst of all, Bobby began to sing along. [2]

        Rahne rolled down the windows, and howled miserably like a lonely wolf during a full moon.

  -----

 "Yo, Duncan!"

Duncan Matthews was leaning against his car in front of the school in a leisure manner. He nodded at Duncan Clone A, whose name escapes all of us at the moment. Yes, all of us. Including you.

  "Hey, man. So how was your summer?"

 "Tahiti was **awesome**. Crazy chicks in bikinis everywhere, bars every night…"

Duncan chuckled. "Bet it was the life." 

"Hell yes, it was. So how'd football camp go?"

Duncan grinned smugly and deftly flexed his fingers. "Coach says I'm sure to get a scholarship, once the scout comes and sees me."

  "Wicked." They slapped five, and Duncan Clone A walked away into the school. Duncan returned his attention to the parking lot in front of him. Finally, he saw what he had been looking for –- a bright convertible with two white stripes streaked across it like a racy sports car. A tall punk-looking kid with an eclectic hairstyle jumped out of the car, looking very eager to get out and away from the occupants. A second later, the car door slammed shut when a sullen-faced, dark skinned boy climbed out of the car, looking extremely disgruntled. They were both unfamiliar, and Duncan found them rather unusual in appearance to be 'gifted', especially when sitting next to Scott Summers and Jean Grey. Evan Daniels came out next, jamming his head to his walkman, and Duncan shrugged, remembering all of the odd new students they had received last year. Finally, the girl Duncan had been waiting to see, came out of the car. Duncan waved at her. She waved back, smiling. Scott Summers exited the car last, and seeing the interaction between the two teenagers, immediately scowled. Duncan's grin widened.

    "Hey Jean." The moment she had come close enough, an arm snaked around her waist and hugged her possessively. It was a little bit more than a friendly hug, but Jean didn't seem to mind nearly as much as Scott. Instead, she giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck in a welcoming response. Scott's face darkened, and he stalked off without a word. Jean looked surprised for a moment, releasing her hold.

 "Bye, Scott!" She called out.

     "Yeah, bye." Scott muttered. Duncan smirked, and turned Jean around so she would face him. "Guess which Bayville High soccer star got a broken leg over summer over in Spain for a soccer tournament?"

  Jean gasped. "Not Maggie Chaste!"

 Duncan laughed. "Geez, Jean; you're almost psychic sometimes. Yeah, it's Maggie. She'll be out for the rest of the season. Which means…"

  "There's an opening in the varsity soccer team." Jean sounded slightly awed. 

"And I know you've always wanted to play on it; even more than the basketball team." Duncan cleared his throat. "So, two out of three; guess who put in a good word for you with the coach for tryouts?"

  Jean squealed like a maniac. "DUNCAN!" And, more or less, in fan girl terms, glomped him. [3]

  -----

     "Hey, Kurt! Wait up!" 

 The junior turned around and patiently waited for Bobby to catch up. Last night, ordered by Xavier, everyone had gathered around to compare schedules, and although Bobby was a year younger than Kurt, they had their first classes right next to each other: Public Speaking with Nuemez for Kurt, and World History with Dannigan for Bobby. Kurt, who had Dannigan last year, had told plenty of advice on how to stay on his good side, and the two quickly became buddies.

 "Vhat took you so long?" Kurt asked. 

"Jamie stalled. Said he didn't want to go to the junior high all by himself." Bobby said, panting. Kurt grinned. "And?"

"Rahne said she would be in 8th grade at the school, and Ororo said that Jubilee's in 8th grade too." 

Kurt shook his head. "I don't know vhat's wrong vith him. I'd rather be doing show-and-tell all by myself than going to Public Speaking to make a speech in front of the entire class." 

  "Tell me about it." Bobby and Kurt began making their way across the hall through the crowds. "At least the idea of having Jubilee and Rahne with him made him feel better."

 Kurt snickered. "Ja. For a 12-year old, he's such a pimp." 

  -----

     Todd pouted and looked around; shifting his shoulders uncomfortably this way and that. 

"Why are we even here, yo?" He grumbled sourly, vaguely shuffling his feet and narrowly avoiding tripping on his untied shoelaces. "Mystique ain't here to bother us as the principal from hell anymore." 

  The tall brown-haired boy that Todd was directing his question to mostly was only half-listening, lifting his head and scanning the crowds with an eager expression on his hard face that was poorly disguised. The silver-haired boy leaning against the wall watched his face with an almost amused look. 

 "Whatchya lookin' for, eh Lance?" Pietro said snidely with a smirk on his face. Lance's face burned momentarily, and he turned away to stare at the ground. 

   "Nothing." Lance muttered. "Let's just go home." 

 "Why? There isn't even anything to eat there." Fred complained. He looked the most uncomfortable there, trying to avoid getting hit by students. It wasn't really their fault; he was hard to evade, even when he was pressed up against the corner of the walls and sucking his sides in. Todd nodded. 

 "Yeah, man! We don't got nothing to eat! Without Mystique, there's no grub she can pay for us!" Todd's eyes were big and wide, and looking almost tearful. Pietro scoffed at him. 

"What are you talking about? You have to be stuffed, with all of the flies you scarf down." He said, looking disgusted. Todd sniffed daintily. 

 "They're appetizers, yo. Not enough for a full day," and Todd patted his empty stomach sorrowfully. Pietro rolled his eyes as a 'whatever', and Lance had resumed searching the sea of high-schoolers, some lost, some straggling, on their first day back. Todd made a tiny whimper sound and began awkwardly and restlessly doing his little shuffle dance again, so Fred was the only one that was perceptive, oddly enough, to observe a certain crowd of mutants enter the school.

  "Hey, guys, look! New kids!" Fred pointed at the tiny herd that had appeared. None of them really caught any of the boys' eyes. There was an oddly tough-looking kid with a hairstyle that looked like he had just escaped from the 80's and looked as if he'd fit right in with the Brotherhood, and Lance stored that bit of information in the back of his head automatically without even realizing it. He had started acting as the Brotherhood's guardian, of sorts; he was the ringleader now. Todd looked up to him; he was the only one Fred listened to; and Pietro…well, Pietro just sort of did whatever everyone else was doing. It put a source of pressure on him, as well as a sense of responsibility. Lance had taken to dropping by the local food mart every other day or so, and stealing a couple of bags of chips and such. Recently, Pietro followed Lance to the store during one of these escapades, and actually helped out. He was quite useful, as he could go fast enough that no one would be able to catch him unless their eye was attentive enough to see that one moment a can would be there, and the next, gone. Nobody asked how these mysterious little treats ended up in the cupboards, but everyone was grateful for them. This had been going on all summer since the whole asteroid incident, and Lance was quickly adapting to the situation. Now, he was even mentally recruiting possible new members, without even realizing it. 

     Pietro's eyes darted from one new kid to the next, not staying on any of them long enough to really focus, or even care. Todd was preoccupied with a fly that was whizzing about close to the ceiling, but Fred's eyes were locked on one girl, the moment she had strutted through the doors. Her hips swung rhythmically to an imaginary, infectious beat that had Fred entrapped and dazzled. Her face was an extraordinary palette of colors that no one in their right mind would really put together in that quantity, but somehow, it suited her. 

  Fred Dukes had a tendency to fall for the unattainable ones. First Jean Grey; now Tabitha Smith?

 Pietro, of course, had been quick enough to catch Fred's expression the moment that it had gone slack, and snickered immaturely at him when a slight dribble of drool began to creep out from a corner.  

 "Pretty enough for you?" Pietro sniggered. 

 "Yeah." Fred and Lance voiced in unison. Pietro glanced about and saw that Kitty Pryde had skipped into the school alongside Rogue. He could almost see the wheels turning in Lance's brain as he tried to figure out an approachable way to – well, approach her. Rogue mouthed a farewell to her, and stomped off and out of sight. Kitty looked around for a moment, tucking a stray piece of hair neatly behind her ear and anxiously biting her lip, looking for a familiar face. Just as Lance was about to step forward, Kitty gave a shriek of joy and darted off into the crowd, yelling, "Doug!" [4] Lance abruptly stopped, and the disappointment clearly showed in his face. For a moment, Pietro almost felt sorry for him. Almost. Meanwhile, the bell had rung, and students fled to their classrooms in a frantic atmosphere. Pietro had already disappeared when the bell was only halfway through ringing. Shoulders hunched, Lance slumped off to his first class, while Fred absent-mindedly took to the stairs where his first class – from **last year** – was located, his head still filled with thoughts of dancing, hip-shaking blonde bombshells. The poor guy would soon be humiliated by the teacher in front of a bunch of juniors. Throughout all this, Todd was – 

    "DAMN YOU BUG! I **WILL** DEFEAT YOU!" Todd screamed. He launched himself up at the ceiling, and crashed his head against the wall. Dazedly, he slid off the slanted top lockers without a strong foothold, and fell down to the ground in a crumpled, unconscious heap. The fly boasted its victory to itself in an annoyingly loud buzzing pulse, and flew out of the nearest window, savoring another hour of life.

  -----

   It was only 4th period, and Bobby had already had enough for one day. 

  He wasn't the type to ditch classes. Sure, he was the unrivaled king of pranks, and always managed to get into some kind of mischief or another, but he wasn't irresponsible about school. His parents were able to stand his monkeyshines[5], but not skipping out on his education. It probably was the one constant thing in his life. He had never really bummed out of school before; Bobby Drake was no Ray Crisp, that was for sure. However, this was different. 4th period was Geometry. The most boring Geometry class, _ever_. And with a woman who had to be a walking corpse; Mrs. Paxton. She was so ancient; her voiced sounded like crinkly paper, and her breathing sounded like the exhaling and inhaling of a dying frog that had just been intoxicated with gas. It was almost painful to try to stay awake and listen to such deathly boredom.    

 He dangled his feet over the edge of the rooftop with childish glee. With no one around really watching him, with the additional free feeling of doing something wrong and no one able to stop you, Bobby felt quite at ease to do anything. He raised his index finger and shot off some bird-shaped icicles, as if a bird had flown out of his finger and into the sky. The sleek shape glided smoothly and soared for a moment, until gravity took hold and it plummeted into a tree. He shot off three more that ended up doomed to the same fate. 

  "Nice." A voice said, making Bobby nearly topple over the roof in surprise. "Can you make me a giraffe next, Bobo?" 

 Bobby stared at the intruder. He had mussed up hair and scruffy jeans, and generally looked like the 'hey kid, gimme your lunch money' type. And, he had the unmistakable, cool air of a senior. 

 "I ditched from Paxton." Bobby said, sounding a bit on the proud side. The boy arched an eyebrow and smirked. 

"Well, aren't you the badass around here, to come up on the school roof to make ice sculptures?" 

 Too late, Bobby realized his error. This guy had seen him use his powers. His **mutant** powers. The powers that his parents specifically told him not to use in front of anyone except maybe Professor Xavier, and especially not in front of schoolmates. 'It's for your own safety', they had said, and Bobby took their words to heart. The stranger must've seen the upset look that distorted Bobby's face, because he laughed and cracked three of his knuckles with ease. Maybe in 'thuggish', this was a friendly gesture, but in the general world, cracking your knuckles often meant that you were going to beat into a bloody pulp. Bobby's face quickly lost most of its coloring. This time, he didn't notice, and instead, crossed over to the edge where Bobby had nearly fell over in two swift steps. 

  "Check this out," He said, and flexed his fingers slowly out in front of him, popping some of those knuckles back in place, and making Bobby flinch. For some seconds, there was a still silence that was only intruded by harsh breathing. Then, the senior blinked, and with a start, Bobby realized that his eyeballs had rolled to the back of his head, showing off the whites of his eyes. At the same time, he felt his hand that was propping up his elbow against the concrete shake slightly. Then, it wasn't just his hand. His entire body was, and then, the school was. The 'thug' lifted his arms a little bit more, and the shaking seemed to move along with it. Redirected and revitalized, the focus of the shaking had been aimed at to the ground, two stories below, just after the entrance of the school. He balled his hands into fists, and a tiny ripple jutted out from the soil, and then a bigger one, and a bigger one, until there was an actual split of earth in that particular area. Bobby stared at the whole thing in awe. 

 "How…" Bobby croaked, sounding even older than Mrs. Paxton. He attempted to clear his throat, and retried. "How did you do that?"  

     "Easy. I've got powers, just like you." Lance, who wasn't exactly the expert at reassuring, comforting smiles and was more prone to scaring off little children with a roar, tried grinning a little bit. "You already got recruited by the X-geeks, right?" 

  "Um…" Bobby turned away, suddenly embarrassed, and not entirely sure why. Sure, he had felt a bit alienated and ostracized when he had found out he was a mutant (as did 78 of his classmates at his old school in Boston… but that was a whole 'nother story), but he hadn't really ever considered the thought that there might not only be more favorable groups between mutants and humans, but between mutants and mutants. Being part of the X-Men seemed like a comic geek boy's dream come true, but suddenly, standing next to this undeniably 'cool' guy, who was a mutant just like him, Bobby felt like just that – a comic book geek standing next to the cool guy in school.

  "I don't know. An X-geek, ditching? It's such a Brotherhood thing to do." Lance did a little wave sort of thing at the ground below, and a rock shifted from its place and covered the crack he had made. He turned sideways to face Bobby. "So, I didn't say what my name was. I'm -"

  "Get out of here, Alvers. He doesn't need to know your name." 

          Scott stood at the entrance from the stairs. Lance's face immediately turned ugly. 

"Can't a guy just talk to a person without you butting in, Summers?" Lance balled and unrolled his hands repetitively, looking ready for a fistfight. 

  "Bobby's already part of the X-Men, and that's final. Don't try to go around recruiting our own. He doesn't want to join scum like you and the Brotherhood." 

 Lance growled. "Stop shitting me. I'm warning you, Summers…" He took a step forward threateningly, and Scott's hand flew to his sunglasses warningly. The sunlight glinted off of them.

 "And I'm warning **you**, Alvers. Don't make me repeat myself." 

"Don't worry. You're coming across perfectly clear." Lance said, and launched himself at Scott. [6] The leader of the X-Men promptly side-stepped, forcing Lance to halt in his tracks, although he still slammed into the ventilation tube-y thingy. Angered, Lance kicked the ventilation tube-y thingy, and would've proceeded to beat the crap out of Scott's eagle cadet choir boy ass, if the ventilation tube-y thingy didn't start moving and groan. Immediately, Scott flipped his shades up and shot at it. 

   "OWOWOWOW!" Todd tumbled out of the ventilation tube-y thingy and flopped to the ground for the second time that day. "Yo! What was up with that, man?!" Todd yelped. 

 "Todd? What the hell are you doing in there?" Lance asked. 

  "Shoot; can't a guy just come up here to find some lunch for himself?" Todd whined. Scott, who had flipped down his sunglasses again, stifled a grimace.

  "Sorry." He said without much conviction. Todd stuck his long tongue out unrepentantly, and hopped to the top of the now-dented ventilation tube-y thingy. 

 "Whatever, yo. So what's going on here?" Todd eyed Bobby, then Scott, and then Lance. "Geez, Lance. You're startin' to scare me, acting like Mystique, and bein' all manipulative n' recruiting n' stuff."   

  Unexpectedly, the door to the rooftop opened, and everyone spun around in ready attack position, including Bobby. They found Ray standing there uncomfortably, his hand awkwardly raised in a still position enclosed around a lighter. His mouth was caught red-handed around a cigarette. 

 "Um…I found it on the ground?" Ray said hopefully, through a half-open mouth. 

"We'll talk about that later with the Professor, Ray." Scott said sternly. "Right now; go back to class." 

  Ray kicked absently at some imaginary dirt with his foot. "See, there's a problem with that… I was kind of kicked out of class." 

 Scott groaned and hit his forehead with the palm of his hand just as the bell rang. The front doors burst open as students walked about the campus to their next classes. 

  "Just… just go back to class now. Bobby; Ray; **now.** The Professor will be finding out about this."

  -----

 "Hey guys! Why so glum?" Tabitha bounced into the red convertible in high spirits. She plopped down in the seat, right between Ray and Roberto. Roberto stiffened and looked away, while Ray's scowl eased a bit. From the front seat, Scott sighed and drummed his fingers on the dashboard. 

"What's taking Jean so long, anyways?" Scott said, frustrated. From the passenger seat, Kitty bit her lip and smiled half-heartedly, unhappy at being the bringer of bad news. 

 "Um, Scott… Jean told me earlier today she'd go out with Duncan to the mall after school." 

Scott's face remained stoic and expressionless, though his voice was a bit different. "Oh… well, I guess we can leave, then. Kurt's 'porting, right?"

 Kitty nodded, and was about to speak further, when the petite Taryn Fujioka appeared. 

  "Scott! What's going on?" She exclaimed, a hand on her hip. Scott looked puzzled. 

"Um…" 

 "Hello, Summers! Signing up for French Club during lunch ring any bells?" 

"Yes…" Scott said slowly.

 Taryn sighed teasingly. "This isn't like you, Summers. There's an informational meeting today, right after school, at the university. Remember? Because of that special trip to France that the club has to organize this year? And you promised me a ride?" A dawning look comprehension passed over Scott's face, with his mouth in a little 'o'. Worriedly, he motioned vaguely with his hand at the passengers in the backseat.

"But I've got to take them home and…" 

 "The meeting's only 20 minutes long, Scott. They can find another ride, can't they?" Taryn tapped her sandal-clad foot impatiently. Scott nodded, knowing urgency in Taryn's voice. 

 "Okay, guys; I'm going to call the mansion with my cell phone so someone can pick you guys up. I'm really sorry, but this is urgent…" 

 "It's okay, Scott!" Kitty said cheerfully. "I bet Kurt's still hanging out by the soda machines. Hopefully he's not too lazy today to port at least one person with him."

 "Alright; so the rest of you will be picked up by Miss Monroe or somebody – err, maybe not, since she's probably going to pick up the others at the junior high… well, someone will, I promise. Sorry again, guys." The new recruits scooted out of their seats and watched as Scott hurriedly drove off, Taryn in the passenger seat. The three stood there in front of the school building. 

"Great! So now we have to stand here like losers and wait for our ride." Tabitha whined. No one answered her.  The campus was now mostly isolated, with the few last departing students mingling in the farther side of the parking lot. Bobby came running out of the school doors. 

 "Sorry; got held up a bit." Bobby panted. "Hey…where's our ride?" Tabitha huffed and crossed her arms. 

"Off at the French Club." Tabitha scoffed. She looked around a bit, and blinked. "Say, where's that princess chick?"

 "GUYS!" 

    Bobby, Tabitha, Roberto, and Ray all turned their heads to the direction of the voice. Jamie was running towards them. Bobby raced forward and they collided; Jamie nearly mowed down Bobby, who stopped him by grabbing hold of his arms. 

 "Jamie? What are you doing here?" Bobby said confusedly. The panicked 12-year old was breathless, but was somehow finding the ability within him to talk a mile a minute. No one could understand his babbling nonsense though, and Tabitha smacked him lightly.

 "Spill it, kid! What's going on?"

   Jamie's eyes were red from crying, and he just managed to swallow down a hiccup before yelling it out.

"Amara's been kidnapped!" 

  -----      

[1] Weird transition; I know. But, just so you know, there _will_ be Jean characterization in this fic, just like there's been characterization for Kurt, and Rogue, and stuff. She's not my favorite character, but then again, neither are Kurt and Rogue. And, like the other ones, hers will tie in with a new recruit. Can you guess which one, though?

[2] – Believe it or not, all of that has happened to me inside my mother's car. Sam's happy place, however, is completely made up. Except for the banjo-playing chimpanzee part. I've always wanted to see that too, Sammy boy. *is nostalgic now* I was the one working the techno moves, by the way.

[3] – Despite all the typical stereotypical 'heartless, dumb brick football jock' crap, I think Duncan really did like Jean, even after the mutant secret was out. Yeah; he didn't say the best thing, but it more or less can be loosely translated to "Hey. You're a mutie. But I still like you!" And what can I say? I like Duncan. 

[4] – Nope; not an OC. Doug Ramsey? Ermm… I dunno who he is, but apparently he's Kitty's friend, according to a buncha online bios. WHOOZAH! Thank you, Beyond Evolution! *bows*

[5] – I swear it's a real word. It is. 

[6] All of that dialogue sounded dirty. But then again, I have been to a lot of slash-eccentric Brotherhood sites lately.

A/N: Squee. I love writing about the Brotherhood. They're more fun to write about than New Recruits, even. But not as much fun as writing about Paul. Anyways, this is my gift to you, in honor of the best day of the year – February 15: Chocolate Blowout Day. It's not my best, admittedly, and I really did want to write more Brotherhood/New Recruit characterization, but at least I put in a cliffhanger. And anyways, I'll do more Brotherhood later on; promise. Woo. Cliffhangers. 


	6. Take Two Placebos and Call Me Lame

"I can't believe this. How the heck did _I_ turn into the responsible one?"

- Bobby Drake

**Turn, Smile, Shift, Repeat**

A/N: Gasp! I'm alive! And I updated! DOUBLE-GASP! 

Argh. This whole death scene-oatmeal cookie thing is driving me crazy. If none of my reviewers have seen this anime, I'm going to have a break down. So, thanks to you, Chaotic Boredom, I got an idea, and have decided to make a little deal with y'all – whoever correctly guesses the origin of the death scene first gets a free X-Men: Evolution one-shot ficlet from me about any-frickin'-thing. Even a Sabretooth/Xavier smut fic. I mean it. Here's one more hint: Some characters of this anime are based on true historical figures.

  ~*~ Reviewer Responses ~*~

The Uncanny R-Man – Yee! This is why I love this selective reviewer audience – they give me wonderful little tidbits from the comics that I never knew of that makes the story more fun to read. True, this'll take some time into tweaking my plotline, but they're priceless little bits of information. Y'all deserve pats on the back. Doug/Rahne fluff? Well, if the public desires it. ^^ As for Wanda – she didn't enter X-Men: Evolution until the near the end of Season 2, so that's how my story will go. If you want to keep track, this chapter is a little while before 'Growing Pains' (the first eppy of Season 2). 

 Calamari Rings – Yeah, Lance IS too thin to be a 'thug', but I couldn't think of another word. 'Ruffian' makes me think of an extra out of Pirates of the Carribean, 'brute' reminds me of some giant rogue bodyguard, and 'hooligan' just makes me break out into a fit of giggles. And I refuse to use the word 'hood', because that was an unfair term that Kitty labeled him. Damned Microsoft Word thesaurus...! Sigh. You know what, I'm thinking about uploading my Paul/Evan story onto ff.net. It's a bit… less in quality than my other fics… but I'm still very proud of it. (10 points if you can guess the reasoning behind this couple.) Meh. Go asskissing!

Risty – Lance is cutest generally all the time, but prominently cute in 'Joyride'. Hee. *gets all fangirl-ish*

Chaotic Boredom – Cowgirls in wet t-shirts run amok alongside banjo-playing chimps in your house? … That worries me, Chaotic. In any case, my house is empty of chimps and banjos, plus I'm not Canadian, so I can't really explain myself. Monkeyshines!

Asylin – Hah! Me, an almighty knower of minor characters? Puh. Worship Beyond Evolution, not me. …well, worship me for something else, at least. Paul **is **a sexy beast! Doug should be included in your mob scene! And Sandy will be SLAPPED into my story, because I take things literal like that! Fwahah! Now… update your own ficcies, sugahhh. I command you with my trippy wiggidy-wack mind powers. BAM!

Andivari – If mutants were real, I'd want Tabby's powers, so I could blow up things and dance the night away! But then, Doug's powers would probably be more practical, eh?  Duncan… Duncan is likeable to me in the same way that Arcade is likeable to me. (WOOT for vague answers!) And you can't forget that underlying sexual magnetism. Rawr.

dunctapedaredevil – I rock! Someone said I rock. Just like Lance! SQUEE!

Caliente** – **Thankies for all the compliments! If you can guess where the death scene was ripped off from (only slightly, because there were a lot of modifications), you will be able to win a free X-Men: Evolution one-shot ficlet from me about anything at all, as said at the top of this chapter. Nope, Sinjin's not around just yet. Jean's time is yet to come, and I hope you're surprised by who kidnapped Amara. xD

Snitter In Rivendell_ – _Figures that the chapter I hated most would be the most popular one with everybody. Heh. Currently, I find Freddy/Tabitha incredibly cute right now, but this is just one of my phases. Next week, I'll be all for Freddie/Roberto. Thanks for reviewing!

Cheesy Monkey – I sees no weird face. Ah well. Yes, glompage is a fun word. FUNFUNFUN. Thanks for teh review!

Raskolian Phoenix - *cringe* Auuhh, this might be the last chapter you'll be reading then. As authoress, I suppose it's my responsibility to warn you when there's SLASH FULL STEAM AHEAD, and I will warn you now. In this chapter, Chapter 6, there is SLASH FULL STEAM AHEAD.   Actually, there isn't – they're just mostly hints and signs. Lalalala. But I will miss you anyways. Thanks for the review, in any case.

animeluvr1 – Erchthpuh. I'm having problems working in the whole 'Young Brotherhood' scheme right now, especially as I'm more preoccupied with the Season 2 storyline and not much more beyond. It's still a cool idea to be considered more carefully, but I have to store it in the backburner for now. HURRAH for the abrupt Paul love-age! I don't really know what spurred this movement (perhaps CHAMPU? They are, after all, very powerful, and mind manipulation would be a very simple thing for them to do), but I've loved Paul forever, and now, everyone does! Maybe there's hope yet for Arcade, that sexy beast.

pirate kit – Jamie is pimpin', I admit, but no one is as pimpin' as Caliban. OOOOOH sexy. 

Showstopper – Ermm… I really wouldn't know, as I don't read much of the comics. ^__^;; But a new reviewer sighting! BWEEEEP! Happiness! Frolick! MONKEYSHINES!

_Take me to a cave, where I can't be seen  
Solace makes the heart, pump adrenaline  
I'm sick of being used, time and again betrayed  
Give a man a key, he cannot not open the door  
Give him something free and he'll resell it to the poor (c'est la vie)___

            - NOFX (Pump Up The Valuum) … "Take Two Placebos and Call Me Lame"

Chapter 6: Take Two Placebos and Call Me Lame

             "Alright, so far this is what ah've translated from the Jamie-nese jibb'rish he's been blubberin': Amara was jus' snatched by a pair of hands into a van and was stolen away." 

   Ray sneered. "I think just about everyone's figured that out by now, buddy." Sam flushed a scarlet red, but Tabitha shot them both a warning look, looking abnormally serious. 

 "So what happened to Rahne and Jubilee?" Tabitha grabbed Jamie and gripped him by the shoulders firmly with her orange-painted fingernails. "Where are they right now?"

 Jamie sniffled a little, furiously wiping away some tears in a failed attempt to look mature and pulled-together in front of the older new recruits. "Rahne transformed into her d – wolf form, and started chasing after the van right away. Jubilee stayed long enough to yell at me to tell the others that Amara had been kidnapped, and stole some motor scooter from this guy who was still shocked by Rahne's transformation."

  "She transformed, right in front o' people?" Sam said, shocked. 

 "Only a scooter? Why not a car?" Tabitha said simultaneously, sounding unimpressed. At the strange looks she received, she ducked her head a bit as if dodging blows to the head, and said meekly, "It would've been faster. All I'm sayin'." 

  "Anyways," said Bobby, giving Tabitha an odd look before continuing, "What are we going to do? None of you guys have a cell phone on ya, right? Because we have to tell the Professor!"

 No one answered vocally, instead shrugging or pulling out lint from their empty pockets. Bobby groaned.

"I can't believe this. How the heck did _I_ turn into the responsible one?"

     "You never did, hun." Tabitha said, strolling into the center of the little half-circle the group had formed. She poked a finger at Sam's chest. "You're 17, right? You have a driver's license?"

 Sam blinked. "Erm… Ah lived in a farm, Tabitha. Ah didn't really need a car, where Ah lived." 

   "Hell, this is New York!" Ray grumbled. "Nobody needs a car as anything except an accessory to show off!" He fumbled through his pockets as if looking for something, and when he didn't find it, he swore, and began pacing back and forth. 

  "Stupid Scott and his choir boy ways… need a fucking cig…" He muttered, and continued his incessant combination of muttering and swearing, until finally he saw a frowning Sam cover Jamie's ears. Ray scowled, but relented, instead opting to shove his hands into his pockets and slouch. Tabitha looked up hopefully at Roberto. 

"Hey, Bert, you boys in El-Brazil-O wouldn't happen to drive some cars around the block, would you?" She asked. Roberto slowly shook his head 'no'. Jamie pointed a trembling finger at Bobby, hiccupping a bit.

 "B-bo *hic* bby's from *hic* Boston, isn't h *hick* - he?" He swallowed his tears. Tabitha slowly turned around slowly, looking slightly maddening. 

"Yeah, he is." She said, approaching him. "I wonder why he never mentioned it before? Them suburban Boston boys know how to drive, don't they?"

  Bobby gulped. "But… I only have a permit. I need to have an adult drive with me at all times." Tabitha acted as if she didn't hear him, and began walking quickly towards a lonely vehicle parked at a selective place in the lot. She glanced backwards, seeing the other new recruits standing awkwardly, unsure of what to do.

 "Well, come on! Don't just stand there!" She yelled. "Bobby, c'mere!"  At the beckoning words, Bobby paled. He had a very, very bad feeling in his gut. 

 "Come on, Tabitha!" Bobby moaned. "You know how to drive, don't you?"

  Tabitha scoffed. "Since I was 14. But my license got cut up a while ago, and if I'm seen anywhere near a steering wheel, it's straight to the juvenile center and then back home for me. Move." Bobby obediently side-stepped. He wasn't sure if he wanted to know what she had done to get her license invalidated. 

 "What are you doing, Tabitha?" Jamie asked inquisitively, sticking his nose down at the hood of the car that Tabitha had just lifted. Tabitha pushed him back with a powerful arm.

  "Stand back, kiddo. I haven't done this for a while." She fiddled with some wires, and some sparks flew up at her, making her jump back into Sam, stumbling a sandal-clad foot on Sam's poor tootsies. You'd think by now that ol' Sammy boy would've learned to step away when people are falling backwards into you, like how I did every time we played the game 'Trust' at summer camp, or at least start tying bricks on top of his feet, but no. Sam winced, and his throbbing toes…throbbed. Meanwhile, Tabitha swore louder and harsher than anything that had yet to have come out of Ray's mouth. She looked around and glared at everyone who was snickering at her suddenly frizzed-up new 'do.

 "Well, I don't see anyone else trying!" She snapped. Ray stepped forward confidently. 

 "Stand back, kiddo. I haven't done this for a while." He said mockingly, and Tabitha's face turned an angry red. At least, until after a couple sparks that flew from Ray's sure fingers, and the engine roared excitedly. Her eyes widened. Ray had done it – Tabitha Smith had been impressed. He cockily blew at his index finger like a cowboy whose smoking gun had just finished off a fearsome bandit. Hee. I like cowboys. Ever since I saw this one picture at an oekaki board that had Scott in leather chaps and Lance dressed up as a horse. And if that sounds kinky… well, it is. 'Twas quite funny, really, albeit somewhat frightening. Now that I have left that disturbing image in your mind, lets return to the story! [1]

      After a little more of Ray's magic fingers and an explosion or two from Tabitha for some ambiguous reason, Bobby Drake found himself at the wheel of a '94 Corolla. Tabitha plucked herself down into the passenger's seat, and grinned wickedly at Bobby. 

  "Drive, puppet." She whispered in a hushed, slightly sinister voice. Bobby nodded, and pressed down on the gas pedal. Tabitha laughed maniacally, making Ray glad he had scrambled for the backseat, even if he was squished with three bodies next to him, and right between Roberto and a wigged-out Jamie. Speaking of which, Jamie, who found no sane female comfort nearby to comfort the little pimpling, pressed against Sam, who was quickly growing fond of the boy as if he were his own little Guthrie sibling. [2]

 "I'm scared of Tabby." He whimpered. Sam patted Jamie's head. "So'm ah, little buddeh. So am ah." 

     A man whistled a ditty, vaguely resembling a Dixie Chicks song, cheerfully as he opened the door and strolled down the stone steps of the school, juggling a box full of papers and his suitcase. He bent over to settle the crate on the ground, and grabbed his car keys from his pocket. He stood up again to press a tiny button on his remote. There was no 'BEEP'. He blinked. And did it again. Still nothing. The man scratched his head and pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, and voiced his concerns.

             "Er… where's my car?"

  -----

            Amara's eyes slowly opened; her thick lashes quivered and fluttered at a strange material that was rubbing against them. It was a nice sensation; a very fluffy, soft substance that felt oddly comforting and warm… 

  "EEK! Get AWAY from me, you vile creature!" She shrieked, and instinctively shot out her fist, slugging whatever it was right in the face. There was a distinct 'crack' sound, as if she had broken a bone – most likely the nose. Her breath, loud and gasping already, quickened when the thing before her snarled in fury. But when it did – snarl, I mean – she gave it a vicious kick, flailing her legs as high as it could go from its tied-down position. The creature actually flew back a couple feet from the force of the kick, and landed with a heavy 'thud' against an earthy wall. 

    Her heart thudding against her chest, Amara's eyes focused on the whole of the thing's body and realized what had been nuzzling her closed eyelids. Hair. Long, blonde hair that, although its appearance was coarse and ratty-looking, was very soft, like fur. He could've been a spokesperson for Loreal, like Fabio, except he was not quite as well-groomed and waxed. And the thing was not a thing at all, but a man. A very, very large man, with frighteningly sharp teeth that were bared in a feral scowl, and long, black fingernails that looked deadly and sharp. His eyes were yellow, like Kurt's, but unlike the said fuzzy blue elf's, his held no warmth or friendliness for her; only cold fury. They were eyes that looked ready to kill. Amara choked back a sob of uncontrollable fear. She could not cry; it was not princess-like. But she couldn't keep back her terror. She didn't want to die. 

 Indeed, the cat-man with Loreal shampoo hair stalked forward, his back hunched, shoulders squared. Then, he abruptly stopped two feet away from her, one foot still raised in the air in hesitation. After what seemed like careful consideration, he growled, and turned away from her and disappeared into the gloom and darkness of the cave. 

   Amara let go of her held breath, sighing in relief. She took the extra time that had been given to her to live accordingly; she surveyed her surroundings. She was at the end of what seemed to have been a man-made tunnel under the earth. Her legs and arms were untied and were able to move about freely, aside from the numbing sensation that made her arms shake which could be nothing but fear. Either the man – cat – whatever – was extremely confident of himself, or he had truly forgotten to tie her up properly, like a proper villain.. But Amara had a chilled feeling in her stomach that told her he was right outside of the cave, just waiting for her to come.  

  Then, Amara's 6th sense, the "princess instinct", kicked in. In fact, it pretty much knocked down the door. Without wiping its feet on the mat. Without ringing the doorknob. _Ooooooh__, snap._

   Amara promptly stood up, determinedly ignoring the unstable wobble her feet displayed. Her lips were in a strange border line between being thinned and pursed. She marched forward in an impressive, noble swagger, considering how dark it was inside the cave. At least, until her head hit the "ceiling", which was really an extra-large clump of tightly-packed soil and rock hanging down lower than the rest of the leveling of the cave walls. She shrieked at the impact, and fell down like a horse rider that had just hit a large tree branch. That caused her body to twist in a spectacularly odd way, so that her sandal-bound ankle ended up entwined around nothing at all. She bit down on her tongue – _hard_ – to keep from screaming in pain. 

Then, in perfect timing, the cat-man stomped in, his pointed nose twitching just like an animal's, as if he'd caught a scent. In fact, it was the exact same thing Amara had seen Logan doing that morning, when Kitty decided to prepare breakfast and make some pancakes. Amara gulped. Logan had certainly looked like a suspicious character from the start. What if this man was some sort of evil twin brother-version of Logan? Or worse: maybe he was in league with him? 

 Amara stiffened her resolve and straightened her back as he stared down at her grimly. 

"Are you in league with Mr. Logan?" 

"Where're you bleeding?" 

    They had spoken simultaneously. The two individuals stared at each other wide-eyed at the other's statements. Mentally, Amara was hyperventilating. Maybe this guy drank blood or something, like a freakish cross between a vampire and an overgrown house cat. 

 The said overgrown house cat began shaking. At first, Amara thought it was in anger, but she realized with a start, when he looked up, that he was laughing. 

"Me? In league with Logan? They really aren't teaching you anything at that mutant school, are they?" He sneered down at her, still laughing as if she'd said the funniest thing in the world. 

"Naw, I'm not in league with Logan. Over my dead body, I am." He muttered the last part more to himself than anyone, and then shook out of his brief reverie. "Anyway, are you deaf? I asked you where you were bleeding."

 Amara very reluctantly replied. "My tongue. I bit it." 

He sniffed in the air again. "Yeah, that too. But I thought I heard something twist. Lift up your pant leg."

Amara looked indignant. "I think not!" 

  "Relax, kid, I'm not interested." He snorted at the idea of it, and Amara frowned, but slowly rolled up her left leg. She flinched at the sight of her own normally-delicate ankle, now swollen to the size of a baseball. His hand came near it – his sharp-clawed, in-desperately-need-of-a-manicure hand. Amara shut her eyes and looked away, expecting her precious leg to be chopped off so she'd forever be labeled 'Stumpy'. Instead, a soothing rubbing motion came, and Amara nearly let go of a happy sigh, until she caught herself. She peeked out an eye open, and saw that scary, rough-looking hand massaging the ankle gently in an odd spot where it didn't hurt at all. 

 "I need you to be healthy. At least, for now." He muttered, before she could ask anything. Amara nodded, and her mouth blurted out the question. 

   "Who are you, then? If you're not Logan's evil twin brother or whatever?" 

He chortled. "That's probably the best way to describe me. Just call me Uncle Sabretooth." He seemed to find this unusually funny, and after his laugh attack, growled in the gutters of his voice range in a feral manner. "Just you wait, Wolverine. When he comes back…"

 "Who?" Amara asked curiously. Sabretooth's yellow eyes seemed to light up at the very question. They glinted magnificently in the darkness of the cave, just like a cat in the dark waiting to pounce.

"Magneto." Sabertooth said in a hushed voice. He leaned up close to her face. Close enough that she could smell the raw, fishy smell on his breath. She could even probably count the nose hairs in his nostrils if there were a better light source. He began laughing, and not in the ordinary (well, as ordinary as he could get) way he had done earlier, but a creepy, homicidal kind of laugh. 

"Magneto.  Magneto promised he'd make me stronger. H…he said so. He told me to wait. So I waited. And when he didn't come, he started telling me to bring an X-kid to him as bait." Sabretooth leered, baring all of his razor-sharp teeth. He leaned even closer towards her. 

"Just think how much he'll be indebted to me. He says good job, good job." Amara blinked, and her vision actually started to adjust to the dark lighting. She could see properly for the first time. The bestial man's eyes were yellow, but blood-shot and ravenous as well. The arm belonging to the fearsome clawed hand was much too thin of a man his bulk and height. She had the feeling that he wouldn't have been able to kill her had she put up the struggle in the first place. He must've been starving himself for days. Maybe weeks, perhaps, while living on scraps. And he was hearing this Magneto guy giving him a 'job well done'. Where? Maybe in his head.

"You're positively mad." Amara whispered, the fear having taken the wind out of her breath. 

"Maybe, but at least I'll be the one who's stronger." Sabretooth licked his lips and smacked them, as if imagining a great feast. "We'll just see Wolverine try to save any of you tykes then." He gave a maddening, triumphant sort of grin. He stood up, and Amara realized how tall he really was. Much bigger than Logan – who happened to something akin to a midget. 

"You hear me, Logan? I'm on the winning side!" Sabretooth roared.

"You're just a sad excuse of a man." Amara retorted heatedly. He was clearly insane, and it was unnerving her. Sabretooth whirled down and sneered at her. That only fired her up.

"Your soul was obviously lost in carnage. You're just trying to find an excuse for yourself! Anyone can wait for a man with a stupid name that's more than likely not a fabrication of their thoughts." Amara shook her head. Sabretooth sank down to his knees, his red-and-yellow eyes shaking intensely. Amara, with some difficulty, turned herself so she'd be directly facing him. Her face expression was a mixture of repulsion and remorse. 

"You're just…sad. I feel as though I should be sorry for you. In fact, I am." Sabretooth's eyes hardened at that. Abruptly, he snarled at her, and she screamed. He jumped away and ran out into the darkness of the cave. 

   "…Well. If that wasn't the creepiest sociopath I have ever met." Amara announced to the empty echo-eyness of the tunnel. The cave didn't reply, and instead carried a wind that cooled the entire atmosphere up. Amara shivered, and tried to huddle her body together. She was frightened.

  -----

   Jubilee eased the 'borrowed' motor scooter to a slow, steady stop and joined Rahne at the intersection of a deserted road. Fustrated, she kicked her helmet off.

"Ugh! Damn it! We lost sight of them!" Rahne didn't answer; only investigated the ground. Jubilee looked around at her surroundings. Her fists clenched, and spewed out some unintentional sparks that scorched the road surface with blackened marks. 

  "She might be dead right now, for all we know." said Jubilee. "I mean, I hated her, and she hated me, but still…"

"Hold the tearjerkers for another time, Jubes." Rahne said. "I think I can get a scent." Jubilee gave her a perplexed look. "A scent…?" 

 Rahne transformed for the second time that day. The wolf-Rahne sniffed at the ground; sniffed at the air; sniffed at a nearby stranded boot on the side of the road. After a couple minutes of this, she transformed back to her human self, and nodded to Jubilee.

  "It's this way!" Rahne hopped onto the back of the motor scooter, and the two were off.

  -----

Victor Creed stumbled through the isolated forest in a red haze. His mind was jumbled and trying to resort itself of its priorities, but he felt too distracted. Images flitted in and out of his mind, and none of them were making sense. Were they real, or just an apocryphal illusionary created by his own mind? 

 _Nothing's making sense anymore._ Victor clutched at his head. _Damn you, Magneto!!... I waited for you… but nothing…nothing…_

   "Oi! What would a big boy like ye be crying fur?" Rahne called out. Victor stood tall and straight. The maddened look in his blood-shot yellow eyes had intensified greatly since Amara saw them, and Rahne had a reason to gulp down a scream for mercy. "Where's ma friend?" 

 "What do **I** look like to you?" Sabretooth asked mockingly. His arms were flexed and ready to tear apart. Rahne sighed despairingly. She was already tired out from two morphs in one day, but it seemed she would have to gear for another one. 

 "Alrigh', mate," Rahne said, feeling her hands grow smaller and furrier. "Whits fur ye'll no gin by ye!"[3]

She chanced a glance diagonally from here, where Jubilee's small form ran silently past Sabretooth. Who, unfortunately for her, had enhanced hearing. He turned his head towards where Rahne was staring, and saw the girl trying to make a run for it. Jubilee, at the realization that she was caught, made a 'eep' sound and began sprinting like mad. Sabretooth roared ferociously, and would've taken off after her at once once had wolf-Rahne not pounced him at that instantaneous moment.

    "AAAARRRGHHH!!" Sabretooth threw off Rahne's small wolf body and threw it against a nearby tree in one swift, fluid moment. Rahne yelped in pain and slumped onto the ground, unconscious.

   "RAHNE!" Jubilee screamed. Sabretooth raced up towards her headfirst, as if he was going to head butt her. 

 "Eat sparkies, cat-man!" Jubilee yelled, her arms outstretched in front of her. Bright red fire cracker-like shapes burst out and caught Sabretooth in the eye, causing him to roar furiously. His eyes even worsened, and his vision considerably damaged and spotty, Sabretooth took a swipe at Jubilee. His longest claw caught a bit of skin and teared it off at her arm, making it begin to bleed readily. Jubilee made a strangled choke of pain.

   "JUBES! DUCK!" 

 Sabretooth turned around just as Jubilee dived to the ground. The effect? He was slammed backwards into a tree by a tremendous amount of electricity forcefully pushing him back. It was enough to stun Sabretooth for some moments, and enough to wipe Ray out.

    Tabitha came running up, swearing. "Shit! Can you stand up, Jubilee?" 

Jubilee shakily wobbled up to her knees with the help of Tabitha and Bobby. "Yeah, I'm fine. Stupid arm, though…" She widened her eyes. "You guys! Rahne! Is she breathing?"   

The words had hardly gotten out of her mouth by the time Roberto had reached her. Sam reached second, and a small huddle formed around the unconscious wolf-girl. Roberto carefully turned her over onto his lap until she was laying on her back, and felt her neck with his fingers.

 "She's breathing. Out cold, though." Roberto said in a low voice. "And I think some of her ribs might be broken." It was the most words he had spoken to all of them collectively.

"Yer aff yer heid." Rahne croaked. Roberto widened his eyes and brushed some hair out of her face, but she had lapsed into unconsciousness again. Tabitha cursed again.  

   "Sam, you go take Rahne and get help! Find a hospital or somethin'. Actually…" She paused, and looked at Jubilee's arm, now bleeding profusely. "They're both small enough; you can carry both of them, can't you?" 

 Sam nodded, but Jubilee frowned. "I've got to--"

"You're useless to us dead, hon." Tabitha said seriously. Jubilee bit her lip, but relented when she saw Roberto carefully transfer Rahne over into Sam's arms. She wrapped her arms around Sam's neck like in a piggy-back ride, and the three burst off into the air. 

 "Hope they don't crash into an airplane." Bobby said, watching the sky.

"That's not funny."

 "I'm not trying to be."

    Ray interrupted the two and pointed out the obvious, taking over Sam's usual position. "It's Amara!"

 And indeed it was. Amara was limping out of the cave, with the help of five Jamies or so.

"Alright. Come on, let's get out of here before the big guy wakes up again." Bobby said in relief.

 "Too late." Ray said tonelessly. Sabretooth staggered up, shaking his head clear. He took a menacing step forward towards Ray, but found his way blocked by a smiling Tabitha, her arms crossed in an intimidating way (though it was hard to be intimidating to a guy three feet taller than you). 

  "Get out of the way, sweet cheeks." Sabretooth smirked. Tabitha's smile turned evil. 

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that, dog breath." Tabitha unfolded her arms to reveal five tomato-sized bombs. Sabretooth widened his eyes, and tried to use his arms to block the blows, but to no avail. Five consecutive BOOMS resounded throughout the area.

 "Geez. Couldn't you have warned us?" Bobby coughed after the smoke had somewhat cleared. Tabitha shrugged nonchalantly, and nodded towards Sabretooth. He still stood, but his hair no longer looked so Fabio-inspired. His face, a mixture of black soot and red fury, looked ready to kill. 

   "Magneto. I have what you asked for!" Sabretooth brayed, staring up at the heavens. His eyes flashing fire and rage, he turned to Amara and jumped at her. She screamed in panic.

"Achthp! No!" Tabitha darted in front and hugged Amara with her body, covering her from any possible blows. She needn't have, however; a flying object barreled into Sabretooth and hit him into a tree for the second time. Sabretooth recovered more quickly this time around, however, and his roar reverberated throughout the forest. The flying object turned out to be a freakish-looking figure all up in flames, smiling vindictively at Sabretooth. He took a couple steps forward as if he were floating on the lightest air, and moved into an extraordinarily fast jump kick that made Sabretooth sprawl onto his back. The man wasn't Logan's rival for nothing, though. He swiped back at the figure, almost equally fast. The walking flame barraged into a tree, but recovered. They soon were absorbed in a ghostly high-speed battle.

  Ray, Jamie, and Bobby watched, mouths agape and wide open. Tabitha finally released her tight hold on Amara. "You okay?" She asked concernedly.

The Nova Roman princess nodded. "Yeah. Thanks to you." 

    "Merda! Isto não está trabalhando!" The burning figure yelled.

 "Holy... that's Roberto??" Ray said incredously.

    "They're just tiring eachother out. But Roberto's slowly losing." Bobby said, still watching the match intensely. Ray set his mouth into a thin line. 

 "Then we'll just have to make a distraction for him to get away, won't we?" 

Sabretooth had knocked Roberto backwards again, and was about to jump forward and launch himself again until about twenty other things had already launched themselves at him.

  "DIE, MEANIE!" Jamie thundered, beating his chests. The multiples proceeded into kicking, biting, punching, licking (yes, licking), and pulling at the poor man, while delivering harsh taunts and statements. Such ones, like: "Eat BOOGERS, doo brain!", and "Stop being stupid, stupid-head!"

 "ARRRRRGGHHHH!!!!"

    And so, the remaining new recruits slipped away and managed to escape, with cool-flying-version-of-Roberto carrying Amara and Jamie getting some well-deserved pats on the back from everyone. Eventually, the multiples had disappeared with all but one ramming a thin tree branch up and down Sabretooth's nose.

 "OH, LOOK AT THE SNOT! Oh, there it went back in again! LOOK AT IT! Up it goes! Down with the green! Up to the brain! Now you see it, now you don't!"  

It was that incident that would forever taint and emotionally damage Sabretooth. It would so much, that Magneto finally came to him and put him into rehab on a diet of rationed cat nip and apple juice. And it was that incident that let Logan ease up on the new recruits and give them three months of chores instead of five.

  -----

A/N: I was trying to finish this thing up quickly, so if it's lacking in quality.... well, too bad? Hey, I can't HELP my writing skills! I just wanted to move this thing along and update already for you guys. 

  [1] – If **that** wasn't distracting, then I have FAILED YOU ALL. Lalala. By the way, that picture is from one of those Japanese oekaki boards that I miraculously stumble upon and never can find again. I wish I could, because it was one-of-a-kind, man. Like, people in Japanese oekaki boards are SO POLITE! They'll comment on everything, and every one of the comments is really nice and make you feel all fluffy inside!  Even if the picture sucks bananas. They'll still be really nice. But they don't really draw any of the inane, immature, grotesque pictures that I love. They're too talented to do that. But that one board was awesome. I think I saw one with Mystique as a mango. Now tell me that's not the greatest thing you've ever heard of. Yeah, I didn't think so.   

  [2] – Pimpling. TEEHEE! :B I think someone asked for an appearance by Paige Guthrie, and this is the most I can give you, chum. At least, at the moment. Try to hold off requests for non-canon Evo characters until I'm through with at least the Season 2 storyline.    

[3] _Translation_: What's meant for you will not pass you by.


	7. Keep It Together

"Yer aff napper, Amara. Away an bile yer heid."

- Rahne Sinclair

**Turn, Smile, Shift, Repeat**

A/N: Congratulations to animeluvr1, who was first to correctly guess where the death scene from Chapter 5 was taken from! It was Rurouni Kenshin. I won't specify, because really, it could be a number of death scenes, because there're so many in RK. That whole anime's about death, blood, and gore, and comedy. It's awesome. In any case, animeluvr1 has won the one-shot-of-her-choice prize, and for those curious, here was her prompt: [Magneto tries to hire a babysitter for the twins, pre- Wanda goes to the looney bin. And the two are little DEVILS. BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!]

I love her zest, don't you?

* * *

Reviewer Responses

Risty – Bah! Lance in a shirt? I take Lance with no shirt any day. Come on, Evo! There's plenty of ripped Scott shirts; where are Lance's??? Tabby/Amara are the fun cartoon lesbians that brighten everyone's day! Ta. Thanks for the review!

Showstopper – Really, it _is_ grungy and dirty, but I decided to bring a new twist to it. Because… well, I was bored, and the chapter needed some humor to balance out the general creepiness of Sabretooth, so voila! Fabio! Thanks for another kind review. (Thank **YOU**, Fabio, for existing so people can make fun of you and compare you to a cartoon cat-man mutant!)

The Uncanny R-Man – Eh. Technically, yes, but I've always seen Jubilee as the tomboyish version of Tabitha, but with a fascination for the color yellow. So, really, they're allowed to steal each other's personalities once in a while, right? Heh… a dogpile on a cat! Dare I pun-ify this? No, no, I won't. There'll be plenty of that to come in this chapter. Thanks!

Asylin (or is it Aslyin now? :D) – Whew, I was spelling it right? The relief is consuming me. Every Evo site I went, it was spelt 'Sabertooth'. It confused me so. I've said this so many times in this fic, but Jamie rocks, man. It has to be said again. Mountain Dew? PUH! Once, I was reading this serious angst fic, and at the very last line of the chapter, it said this really stupid, funny thing, and I was drinking yummy hot chocolate at the time. I snorted. HOT. Chocolate. Up my nose. My nose hairs feel singed just remembering the incident. PAIN. Eeep; you must've not had very good boyfriend experiences. Michigan, Canadian? I feel for you. And now I have a sudden image of Chaotic Boredom terrorizing the Great Lakes. shudders

Snitter In Rivendell – Sabretooth makes me laugh, because there are simply too many Acolytes stories I've read with him running around on all fours with toilet paper trailing on his boot, or twitching in his own pool of pee and drool from an overdose on catnip, or playing with a ball of yarn. I can't take the guy seriously any more, which is why I made him as dramatic as possible. Thanks for comments and review!

animeluvr1 – A stab in the dark…? Could that possibly be a pun? heart swells Don't worry – I WILL get your prize done! It's just tough, 'cuz I haven't written a real humor fic for a long time. It's been all about the angst for me for a while… but then, I suppose me writing humor is angst itself, right? (No, really. It's the summer now, so I am REALLY trying to update all of my fics and get your request done. So sorry for the wait!)

Possessor of the X Gene – Wow. A whole slew of reviews! (I tend to do these a lot, but I love it when people do them to my stories. Woot!) Now, now. There's no shame in loving and writing Romy. Well… unless you kill Scott in your stories, or some horrible thing like that. Then you should be ASHAMED!! (Honestly. Why would anyone want to kill Scott?) Gee, thanks! My writing style isn't really a writing style at all, but just a way to get in-depth characterization for every new recruit who never got their share of airtime on the show, and a different way to look at the new recruits who _did_. …you've never had _pixie stix??_ Then you haven't LIVED!!!

Andivari – Indeed, you do. shakes fist threateningly …Hm. I seem to be doing that much too often.

Chaotic Boredom – MR SKETCH was awesome! I think I sniffed them too much though, because once I got really dizzy and started seeing spots in my vision. No, seriously. And it wasn't even because I was in a staring contest with my friend at the sun. (A cousin of mine used to do that, though. She's practically blind. It's sort of sad, how stupidity runs in the family.) It wasn't any old guy's car… You're misspelling 'genius', dearie. …Unless you're doing that on purpose… heh, heh, heh… ?

MorriganFearn – Mmmm, long review.

Flamingo1 – Ah, well, Rahne, Sam, and Jubilee come out okay. This chapter actually takes place a month or two after the last chapter, so you'll see. Thanks for reviewing!

_The thunder struck, the clouds appeared  
Our fearless crew was not prepared  
and pretty soon the boats came for us  
half a million strong  
We gathered arms, we fired shells  
We build a wall around ourselves  
and pretty soon the spirit was a lot like  
what it used to be back home  
So far away from everyone  
and everything starts today  
Keep it together  
Can we keep it together  
We're singing a new song now  
and everything starts today_

- Guster (Keep It Together) … "Keep It Together"

Chapter 7: Keep It Together

Charles Xavier sat at his desk, looking distracted. His sharply dark eyebrows were furrowed in intense concentration and effort, but his eyes were obviously somewhere else; far, far away. The large study he was inside was quiet and empty, except for the distant sound of shrieks of laughter that is common on primary school grounds, and a slightly less familiar sound of blasts and crashes and general mayhem. His handsome, matching dark wood furniture shook when an abrupt BOOM resounded somewhere outside upon the building. An angry yelling commenced and Charles had still not moved an inch, except for a slight twitch upon his lips that spread upwards.

The door to the study swiftly opened and slammed shut, followed by a nervous shuffling.

"Sorry," the intruder mumbled. Even then, the telepath only very slowly opened his eyes in a calm, relaxed manner.

"Hello, Ray." Charles said kindly. "Please, sit down and make yourself comfortable."

Ray Crisp brushed a hand quickly through his carefully styled hair and hastily dropped himself down onto a plush seat, as if there had been a bomb under his feet where he had stood. His expression gave him the look of someone who was bored and annoyed, but his tense frame betrayed his composure. Charles laced his fingers together in that steeple thing he enjoyed oh-so-much, and benignly gazed upon Ray with a grey smile.

"I was just trying to contact an old friend of mine through my telepathy. He was lost recently, due to some events, and I was hoping to reach him." Charles sighed deeply. "We've been through much together, and I wonder of his whereabouts." Ray sat there, uncertain of what to say. But he needn't have, because the man's expression quickly cleared up.

"Speaking of friends, Ray, there is a reason I called you up here," said Charles. "There seems to be an issue that I feel needs to be dealt with before any more time can delay us."

Ray faked an easy, leisure smile. "Look, if this is about the smoking, Scott already confiscated my cigs."

"No, no, it's not about that. Although… well, I suppose we'll talk about that **too** at a later time. What I wanted to talk to you about is your situation with Roberto."

Ray's jaw tightened up at the very mention of the name. He coughed a bit to disguise it.

"You see," Charles continued, "you and the rest of the younger students have been here for some months now. It's taken all those months for the lot of you to actually start to _get along_. Each and every one of you are from very different backgrounds, which is why I believe it was so difficult for everyone to relate to one another and understand. I imagine the bonds will grow tighter and more close-knit as more time passes by, but… I am a bit concerned about you, Ray. You are from probably the most dramatically different and unusual background out of everyone and that is what is restricting you from connecting with anybody very much. And it has been noted that that applies to, more than anybody, your own roommate."

Ray looked away, towards the window. "Roberto's okay. We just don't have much in common, is all."

Charles chuckled. "Mr. Crisp, I'm a telepath, and a very old, experienced one at that. It's not very tricky for me to decipher what is a truth and what is a lie, and especially when you're thinking so very loud."

Ray's face turned into a shade of a slight crimson, but he determinedly refused to face the professor directly. Charles followed the direction of his eyes, which were currently resting upon a certain blonde girl. The said girl was sprawled across the edge of the fountain, propping her head up with her arm so she'd be able to talk to the dark-haired princess next to her. Charles coughed discreetly.

"Please, listen. I understand that both you and Mr. Da Costa have rather short fuses, if I may say so. He is also rather introverted, which, for some reason, irritates you…?"

Ray shrugged nonchalantly. "He's just … quiet. It makes me uncomfortable. Like he's just ignoring me. And he doesn't answer my questions or nothin'."

"Perhaps they are personal questions, Ray. Ones that he'd rather not have floating around the Institute as gossip." Charles said gravely. "We all have secrets. I know that I have some I'd rather not share with anybody. And I have a feeling you haven't been so eager to tell people about yours, either."

Ray had nothing to say to that.

"Have you contacted your friends lately?"

"I don't have any friends that I can contact." Ray said stiffly.

Charles' face took on a somber expression. "Surely, Ray, you miss them to a degree. After all, they-"

"They never wanted me with them. They hated me, but they let me hang out with them. And like I told you, I don't have any friends I can contact."

"But-"

"They don't want me back. Which is fine with me." Ray stood up, his hands balled into fists. His face held no secrets now, with his mouth set in a thin line that made him look ten years older.

"Can I go now?"

Charles looked a bit lost, but accepted his request with a nod. "Just… try to understand Roberto a bit more. I have already told him to do the same thing. He really is much more outgoing to people since he first came. It would be easier to make a conversation with him now. You two might realize you may have more in common than you think."

"Right." Ray said dryly, and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Head bowed, he stomped away from the door and headed down the stairs, until he collided with someone. That someone made an 'oof' noise, and the sound of knives piercing a surface very quickly was heard. Ray looked up to see a sorrowful-looking Evan moan, feeling the back of his torn shirt ruefully. Three spikes were imbedded into the carpet of three consecutive steps on the stairs behind them.

"Aw, man," Evan bemoaned. "That's the third shirt this week! Auntie O's not going to be happy."

"Sorry," Ray said without much remorse. He was still angry. "I was kind of distracted."

Evan peered at him. "You look like it. Something eating you up, dude?"

Ray snorted, and quickly looked away for a moment. "I… well, yeah. It's nothing, though. Just some issues with where I used to live."

"Your hometown?" Evan slung his skateboard over his shoulder, looking genuinely curious. Ray grinned.

"You could call it that, yeah."

"Man, I hear ya. After I showed up on the local news with Pietro as some sort of possible felon, I never wanted to show my face in New York again. I'm glad I switched high schools, but I still kind of wish the Institute was located in Alaska or something. Did you know I saw my old ex-girlfriend Erin a week after I left home? It was at this gas station, and I left Scott's car to buy a soda, and she was all 'Yo Evan! What are you doing out of juvy?' I had to pretend I had to go to the bathroom _really_ bad, and hid out in a stall for like 15 minutes, when Scott and Kurt finally found where I was hiding. It was so embarrassing…"

All of that had flown over Ray's head, except for one thing that had caught his attention. He looked at Evan with the same curiosity Evan had displayed. "You lived in New York too?"

"Yup. Greatest place on Earth, huh?" Evan smiled widely. "Hey, you might've gone to the same high school I went! You _do_ look familiar, you know. I could check out the yearbook and…"

"Eh… doubtful. I didn't really go to school for all of sophomore year, and a little of freshman year." _I **was **seen a couple times on the local news, though. But then, he doesn't look like the type who watches the news out of his own free will…_

"Oh." Evan scratched his Dennis Rodman hair sheepishly. "Well, you have that whole New York punk look down, then. Of course I'd think you look familiar."

"Right…" Ray paused, and hesitantly asked, "Well, I'm just wondering, but… you wouldn't have happened to have known an Erica back there, would you? An Erica Williams? She was a junior, I think."[1]

Evan drummed his fingers on his skateboard with a thoughtful look. "Well, I knew some Erica's, dunno about juniors… I can go look her up in the yearbook. Uh – once I find it."

"Naw, it's okay. I was just wondering." Ray said hurriedly, and began walking down the stairs. "I better go see what Logan has all us new mutants outside for. And didn't Scott say something about catching a soccer game?"

Evan wrinkled his nose. "I'm not the soccer type, man. I was actually thinking about staying in my room all day and listening to music. Hey, if you see Scott, tell him to tell Jean I said good luck, 'kay? So she doesn't bite my head off for not supporting the team and not having school spirit and her usual blurb."

Ray laughed half-heartedly, as Evan rode his skateboard down the hallway.

"Yeah… sure."

-----

Logan bit back a feral snarl that would have been sure to have knocked the boots off of Sabretooth as Sam rubbed his head – not out of pain, but humiliation. Logan mentally wished that shame would be as painful as physical hurt, but all the Southern boy had suffered was a small bump to the noggin. The source of that bump was clearly shown in the large hole on the side of the large X-Mansion. It was not so much a literal hole as a dent, because there was no actual opening; just an incredibly large elliptical shape full of cracks and tiny nooks where flies could probably get through located at the spot on the wall just above the bushes that Ororo had watered that morning.

"Really, Misteh Logan, ah am **really** sorrah." Sam repeated for the fiftieth time. Jubilee bit her lip and attempted to counteract her usual cynicism by making an optimistic outlook. Logan had that look that usually meant something was going to become carnage very, very soon.

"At least he didn't hit the window, right Logi? I mean, then our Sam here would be laying with a piece of glass sticking out of his eye." Jubilee said cheerfully, smacking her gum.

"Actualleh, ah'm invulnerable tah things like that with mah power." Sam added casually. That didn't really make Logan feel any better, other than the fact that any pain Sam would suffer would be caused by _him_. And… did Jubilee just call him _Logi_? How could that girl be so fearless of his wrath?

"And it's not like he hit your motorcycle or anything!" Bobby said helpfully. Jubilee and Jamie vigorously nodded. "Maybe because you won't let any of us come near it with a 50-feet pole…" Bobby added a bit sullenly, under his breath.

"I heard that, Ice Cube." Logan growled. "I happen to have a very valid excuse. It's because I don't trust yer drivin', not after that handling of your own principal's car." Bobby reddened, while the others snickered. Logan turned his head quickly and gave them looks of death. "And I wouldn't want to be the person to have hijacked that car in the first place, because the _moment I find out…"_ Tabitha innocently whistled. "…they'll have an even worse punishment than what Firecracker got over there. And all **she **stole was a scooter, so you'd be surprised what I would have in store for **them**." The new recruits flinched at the dangerous tone in his voice, while Jubilee rolled her eyes. Logan gritted his teeth and stalked off. He desperately needed coffee. Or better yet, beer. Too bad Charles didn't believe in keeping alcoholic substances inside a house full of adolescents. Painkillers would do. Yes, five painkillers would do very nicely. He nearly walked into Ray, who opened the door the instant he had reached for it. Logan snarled at him, and shoved past. Ray, wide-eyed, walked down the steps cautiously.

"What's eating **him**?"

"Eh." Bobby shrugged, and tossed his old, beaten up baseball up and down with adept movement. "Feel like a game of catch?" Ray thought for a moment, and then spotted Tabitha walking up the steps and settling down against a corner to read some sort of magazine. "Er…"

"Hey, Ray, what'd the doctor call for?" Jubilee appeared in front of him, followed by an equally inquisitive Amara. Bobby frowned at the interruption, but turned around and walked off to find Roberto.

"Yeah; I haven't had a one-on-one with the Professor ever!" Amara said. Jubilee snorted.

"Are you kidding? Remember your attitude when you came here, Miss Thang?" Amara looked aghast, and dramatically put a delicate, manicured hand to her heart.

"What _are _you talking about?" Amara said appallingly. Ray snorted, causing Amara to give him the evil eye, daring him to laugh again. Amara's leg had just healed only a couple weeks ago, and Jubilee's arm still held the semblance of a scar, but Ray didn't want to be the object of maiming. He stepped back a little, feigning innocence. Jubilee was about to reply heatedly to that semi-rhetorical question when something delayed her. That something came in the form of a small, glowing orange ball with volatile black bubbly flames inside that did not look unlike how Roberto looked when he 'transformed' in the sun. Ray looked up to see Tabitha cackling just as the tiny ball rolled forward and hit his foot… and exploded.

Jubilee and Amara abruptly stopped their screaming at each other and stood, wide-eyed, with their faces slightly ashen. Amara's sleek, shiny hair was askew, there were burn marks on Jubilee's prized yellow raincoat, and Ray's sandals were completely ruined, with bits of the straps blown off. Tabitha fell backwards on her bum laughing, her arms clutching her sides.

"You guys are so completely oblivious!" Tabitha cried, wiping her eye. "You should see the… look on…" She paused, seeing the homicidal grins that had appeared on the three teenagers' faces. Amara raised her hands, cradling two flaming molten balls in each palm, while Jubilee's and Ray's arms each crackled with energy in a dangerous combination of sparks and bloodthirsty excitement.

"Gah! Run away!" Tabitha yelled as she sprinted past Jamie, who had been walking towards them. He blinked in a clueless sort of way, and stepped back as Ray, Amara, and Jubilee ran past him as well, all screaming and yelling like some sort of savage tribe.

"Um… I guess I'll just go hang out with Roberto and Rahne then!" Jamie called after. No one replied. Jamie slumped down his shoulders and moodily walked off the stone steps towards the large grassy field area, where Roberto was looking very impressive and showoff-y by juggling a soccer ball around on his head, his knees, the sole of his feet, and any other body part he could bounce it on without falling to the ground in pain. Jamie watched in awe as he took a large bite out of the apple he had received from Ororo earlier that afternoon. Meanwhile, wolf-Rahne pranced by and jumped up into the air to catch a Frisbee in her mouth. Roberto obviously took notice of her, because the next thing Jamie knew, Roberto had transformed into a flaming black-and-orange incarnation with a wicked grin on the impalpable face. He hovered above the ground about two feet, and streaked towards the soccer ball lying away from him.

The ball flew into the air high into the sky – Jamie squinted, but could not see it due to the blinding rays of the bright sun. Roberto and Rahne were not watching the ball at all anymore, now being absorbed in a heated debate over last year's FIFA tournament. Jamie shrugged, and took another bite of the red apple while walking closer towards the two in hopes of companionship. He hadn't taken two steps when the soccer ball crashed down upon his head with the help of gravity and inertia. Rahne and Roberto looked at each other, startled and amused, at the sight of twenty Jamies rubbing their sore heads confusedly on the ground, accompanied by twenty half-eaten apples.

"Ah, shoot! Jamie, buddeh – DUCK!"

Jamie groaned, but instinctively flattened his body to the grass, as well as his twenty clones; a baseball flew overhead, and a moment later, so did Sam. There was a big THUD as Sam collided into a hard surface for the second time that day. But…

"Woo! Ah got it!" Sam waved his amazingly intact arm, the one with the catcher mitt, excitedly, holding a dusty baseball. He got up and brushed himself off from the miniature rubble and dirt that had collected on his clothes from the brick wall and leisurely threw it back towards Bobby.

Bobby grinned and ran to get the ball. _He might be the goofiest dork in Bayville, but he's one hell of a baseball player._

-----__

A burnt and ashen Amara stalked into the cool kitchen, muttering foul words under her breath. A sudden movement made her look up in surprise, only to see the refrigerator door close, revealing Rahne carrying an orange juice carton.

"Oh…hey." The petite redhead said in greeting stiffly.

"Hello." Amara replied uncomfortably. Rahne looked around a bit in an unsure manner, and then outstretched the carton. "Um…thirsty?"

"Actually -" The dark-haired princess stopped herself before she made another demanding order, and grit her teeth, keeping in mind the professor's words. "Yes, thank you."

Rahne had already began moving about for two cups, eventually coming across a cupboard with a handful of ceramic mugs. She handed one back to Amara, who weakly covered her grimace at it. It was decorated with a rather large orange cat and a yellow dog. Not quite fine china, but…

"Here." Rahne poured some of the juice into Amara's mug, and then looked closely at her. "Are ye alright? Yer moosh looks kind of…burnt." The usually pristine Amara scoffed and flipped her hair.

"I'm not sure what a moosh is, but it was that insufferable Tabitha. She had the nerve to throw some of those heinous bombs of hers at me! Although," she added as an afterthought, "she DID also get Jubilee and Ray, both of whom undoubtedly deserved it and for which it was long overdue."

Rahne giggled at this. "Yeah, Tabby's kind of wild. But she dae seem to be a very caring, thrawn type of person. She knew exactly what tae do tae save ye back then…" She broke off and drained her cup. Amara shuffled her feet and cleared her throat.

"Er, about that… I … heard about how you fought for my life from that hideous beast man."

"And mine." Rahne said jokingly, and Amara smiled a bit.

"Well, everyone's, then. And I realized…" Amara coughed. "I never quite thanked you, I think."

Rahne smiled back. "Yer welcome then, lass."

Amara settled herself against the counter. "Now that's out of the way," she said in a business-like tone, "Do you fancy someone?"

Rahne spit out what liquid there had been in her mouth back into her mug. "Bugger mae arse, ye don't tally, dae ye? Wot kind of blether is that?"

"I only understood about 30% of what you just said, but really," Amara pressed. "There are two boys in this house who are practically drooling all over you. I'm not exactly sure _why-_"

"Oi, thanks."

"-but it must have to do something with your personality or the like." Amara paused when she saw Rahne's saucer-sized eyes. "Is something wrong? You _did_ know, didn't you? It was so blatantly obvious!"

Rahne was growing more stressed by the moment. And thus, her accent grew thicker by the double. "Yer aff napper, Amara." Rahne said. "Away an bile yer heid."

"Stop talking in that practically foreign language of yours! I order it! Honestly!"

She merely grinned.

-----

By the time evening had fallen ("OW!" It said, and picked itself up again), the entirety of the new recruits had already marched inside for a special training session that Logan had prepared _just_ for them. They weren't exactly flattered by the attention, however. It was obvious that they'd much rather join the older X-Men to the high school to root on Jean for the opening night of the varsity girls' soccer season.

"Come on, Logan!" Bobby groaned. "What's with the extra session? We had our usual early morning thing, and we're tired out."

"Consider this a special thanks for creating an extra window to the mansion this afternoon." Logan said silkily from his position at the control room, his voice echoing from the microphone. Sam's face burned with embarrassment, while some tossed some dirty looks at the boy.

"The purpose of this particular simulation," Logan spoke, "is for strategy. Now, I know you all can work together. You proved that in the little fiasco that took place a while ago." He tightened his mouth and smiled a bit. "It impressed Charles, I admit. He and I both didn't think you could pull together and out of your rebellious teenage angst attitudes and be a team in such a short time. I'll tell you this – **I** wasn't impressed. You can do the working together thing all you want, but it'll never work if you don't think things through. Your team strategy was lacking. If it had been planned out more, Firecracker and Lassie here wouldn't have landed up in the infirmary, and Nova Roma wouldn't have wobbled around on crutches for the first time."

Logan fiddled with some controls of some kind, they could tell, because a small pedestal rose up from the floor in the center of the Danger Room. A tiny football was on top in place.

"Now, because you're all such a 'working-together' team, I haven't had to put you through my blindfolded partner obstacle course that I put Scooter and that lot through when they first came. So I decided to modify this more to my liking." Logan continued.

"Meaning, it's ten times as dangerous and difficult than before." Tabitha said dully.

"Now you're thinking. The objective of this simulation is to get the football. You will be divided into two teams, just to up the competitiveness. Oh, and to up the motivation, the losing team will take on chore duty for the rest of the week."

Logan snarled into the microphone to stop the cries of outrage. "Bobby, Sam, Amara, and Roberto, you're Team A. Jubilee, Rahne, Tabitha, and Ray, you're Team B."

Amara scrunched her shoulders together. "Gods, I'm surrounded by testosterone!"

Tabitha rested an arm on Ray's shoulder. "I don't know Amara, you might just be lucky. Isn't that right, Ray?" She purred. Ray rolled his eyes.

"Whatever you say, Tabby." He said in a cool voice. Mentally, Sam was imprinting this scene into his WWCHGLRD truism. Tabitha grinned and hit Ray playfully before grabbing him by his collar and dragging him towards where Jubilee and Rahne stood behind the marked line. Bobby, Sam, Roberto, and Amara were trooping towards the other side of the room, where another marked line was. Jamie looked lost.

"But…where am I supposed to be?" Jamie asked. Logan turned his head from his position above to down below where Jamie was staring at him with large puppy eyes.

"Oh. Sorry about that, Munchkin. You'll have to sit this out, as this simulation is a little more dangerous than the others. The professor swore to your parents we wouldn't put you through anything that was above your skill level."

Jamie looked upset. "But…"

"Take a break, kiddo. You can go hang out or something." Logan prompted. Jamie walked towards the elevator mournfully, while the others eyed him jealously. They couldn't understand why he looked so disappointed.

Logan had resumed pushing and pulling and pressing the controls. The laser guns that Amara and Rahne had met that first day on unfriendly terms were pulled out from behind the wall panels. The metal floor paneling itself was moving around and changing…and rising from the ground. Just before the walls grew high enough to obscure their vision of the football prize, the recruits caught a glimpse of some spikes that had adorned themselves around the pedestal. Sam audibly gulped.

"What is this? Fucking Indiana Jones?" Ray muttered. He had a sudden craving for a cigarette, or ten.

"I heard that, Crisp." Logan called out. "You must forget that there are mikes planted everywhere in this room for me to hear. That, and I have enhanced hearing."

_Screw you_. Ray thought to himself sullenly, and shoved his hands into his pockets.

"I dinnae think tha's a good idea, Ray. Ye should prolly have yer hands oot fur this." Rahne told him warningly.

"Piss off." Ray retorted automatically. Rahne flicked him in the ear. "OW! Okay, okay, sorry."

"Have fun, kids," Logan called out, safely protected from any air projectiles of anger high above the lot. "You can start…now."

Team B scrambled out into what they now realized was a maze the moment Logan had given his word. Team A was a bit more held up, most likely because Amara was busy thwacking Bobby because she firmly believed he had just groped her, but eventually they got a move on too. The two teams raced through the maze, hitting dead ends everywhere. This wasn't quite true, because this was only Team B's problem. On the other side of the maze, Bobby had already hastily created some makeshift ice steps for him to oversee the maze from an aerial view. By doing so, he could give his team directions. This would mean he would fall behind, because no one was allowed to use powers to jump over the walls, but it did quicken Team A's progress by a remarkable amount. Roberto was currently fuming because there was no real sunlight for him to absorb, rendering him useless to fly. Sam's powers would only have him crash into the walls, which had counted him out, not to mention the team was slightly bitter towards him. In their minds, it was entirely Sam's fault that they were doing this in the first place.

Team A was fumbling madly for the right directions. They had realized a while back that they were a bit more handicapped than the other time, because their powers hardly varied, aside from Rahne's. Ray's could've been an exception, because electricity turns out to have a wide variety of advantages, but Ray had no idea how to get a hold of them. Luckily…

Wolf-Rahne sniffed around, trying to gain on a football scent. The team was getting impatient, however. Even if they were being more accurate, it was taking a tedious amount of time.

"This is so BORING." Tabitha bounced a tiny bomb up and down. "Whoops!" She slipped hold, and it collided with the wall. Poor wall. The bomb exploded and left a multitude of scorch marks on the metal surface.

"Wait a minute…do that again, Tabitha." Ray said.

"What, this?" Tabitha threw 5 cherry bombs at the same spot. A second later, they were left with smoke that made them all cough and a gaping hole. Rahne sniffed gingerly at it and yipped happily.

"I'm pretty sure that means 'football!' in wolf-speak. Let's go." Jubilee hopped through first, followed by Rahne, then Ray, then Tabitha. This new method, Team B found, was much more effective and to their liking. They emerged from the maze some seconds after Team A. They were shocked by the sight that greeted them.

The lone pedestal with the football stood between Team A and Team B…along with a large chasm.

"Do you expect us to grow wings and fly?!!" Jubilee yelled up at Logan.

"No need to yell, darlin'. And don't be ridiculous. I expect no such thing." Logan said gruffly, restraining from laughing.

"Oooohh." Jubilee fumed. "So what do we do now?"

Team A was facing the same dilemma, but more calmly. They actually had quite a few options available. Amara looked around at her team.

"So we have a few choices. We could all grab onto Sam and he could catapult us to the football."

"But not before he catapults us all to our death." Bobby said. "Did you happen to notice those spikes surrounding it? No offense," He added to Sam.

"None taken. Ah know Ah don't have very good control over mah powers. And Ah'm sorry about all this anyways. It's mah fault for making Mr. Logan put this on us." Sam said glumly.

"Oh, don't be stupid. We don't think it's your fault." Bobby replied.

"We don't?" Amara said in surprise.

"Not to break this up this touching moment," Roberto said dryly, "But the other team's gotten an idea while we're still chatting."

"What? But how? They don't have…oh." Bobby trailed off when he saw what their gameplan had become. Ray had managed to take some paneling of the metal wall of the maze behind them and turn them into a sort of makeshift escalator/hovercraft…thing, like that guy on that one Kids' WB! show. Electric Man or something? Whatever. Anyways, the group of them were now clutching to each other for dear life on the flimsy little metal while Ray had his eyes closed in deep concentration to getting them across.

"Say, we're not in any _real_ danger, right?" Jubilee laughed nervously. "I mean, if we fell off this gorge thing, we wouldn't fall to our deaths?"

"Shut up, Jubes. I'm concentrating." replied Ray. Jubilee glowered at the reply, but quieted down. Until she saw that Bobby had started making some sort of slide… an ice arch bridge.

"Oh snap! Ray, you better hurry up.

"I can't! This is hard, in case you didn't notice. Anyways, what for?"

"Because Bobby got a bright idea, crazy as that sentence sounded."

Bobby wasn't doing as well as it seemed, actually. The bridge was very slippery, and it was painstaking to make everything just the right angle for them all to walk on without slipping and falling to their inevitable doom.

"Here's a good suggestion," Amara hissed. "Why don't you leave what we're standing not on alone, and ice what's beneath our feet so we move along without having to walk?"

"Hey, that is a good suggestion!" Sam said.

"Oh, fine! Everyone take the royal's advice!" Bobby said, but obliged anyways. And to their utmost shock, it worked. They were moving along at a moderate speed.

"It worked?" Amara asked dubiously..

"It worked!"

They reached the platform where the pedestal stood a moment after the others had. And now, strategy had to take place again, before the four-feet high spikes.

In the control room, Logan held a palm to his head and groaned. "This is precisely what I ordered them to do. Make a strategy ahead of time. It was the entire point of this simulation!"

Team A were in a panic. Rahne couldn't accomplish anything about the spikes, wolf or human, and Tabitha's bombs nor Jubilee's sparks couldn't melt down the spikes, as they had already experimented with. Ray was to the point of blacking out from exhaustion, as Jubilee relayed to them while struggling to help prop up Ray's tall body with Tabitha.

"I have an idea." Jubilee said meekly.

"Jubilee, you can't do anything." Tabitha said. _You're the only one who hasn't **done** anything in this entire simulation, so you're on a roll anyways. Why stop now?_

Rahne stared curiously at her. "We're out of options anyways, Tabby. We might as well. Go ahead, Jubilee."

Jubilee grinned. "Great. Just give me a minute to warm up." She shook her arms and stretched her legs. Rahne and Tabitha exchanged a look, completely bewildered, while Ray's head slumped to his chest with his arms around Rahne and Tabitha's necks. He gave a little snore. He was **sleeping**.

"Maybe Bobby can ice the spikes over so they break?" Roberto said quietly. Bobby shook his head.

"No go. I just tried it. Whoa, Amara, what are you doing?"

Amara's brows were furrowed in concentration. Her body had lit up and taken on her molten lava form. She was crouched over and working at the base of the spikes. They were slowly, but surely, melting.

Jubilee stepped back as close to the edge before the canyon as she dared. Tabitha and Rahne were kneeled facing each other before the spikes with each of their palms overlapped and outstretched. Ray laid on the ground a few feet away, oblivious and content. Jubilee took a deep breath. _Let's hope I haven't gone rusty. _She took on the position of a track runner and dug into her heel, putting the pressure there. The invisible alarm in her mind went off. She sprinted down her imaginary lane and closed the space between her and Rahne and Tabitha, forcing herself not to close her eyes in fear. She paused for a millisecond before them before her right foot stepped onto their hands. Just as she had directed them to, the girls lifted their hands in synchronization to the force of Jubilee's jump. The small girl flew into the air above the spikes and did one complete somersault, tucked into a tiny ball, before she landed with a 'thud' onto the other side on two feet.

Tabitha whooped. "That was awesome!"

"That was so, so freaky." Jubilee breathed, a slight valley girl accent creeping in to her voice. "But so, so COOL!" She squealed to her team. Rahne and Tabitha were giggling, until Rahne pointed. "Quick, Jubilee! Run!" Amara had melted down the spikes low enough for her to merely hop a bit over them, and began running towards the pedestal. Jubilee took off as well, being able to run faster. They grabbed at the football at the same time.

"Let GO!"

"I got here first!"

"You did NOT! I did!"

"Alright, alright, game over." Logan said through the intercom. "Nobody gets the loser reward. Actually, that wasn't too horrible."

"Gee, thanks." Tabitha said sarcastically.

"Don't push it. Somebody spray water at Crisp or something to wake him up. You're all free to go for the rest of the night." Logan turned away from the microphone and began walking towards the door when his cellphone rang. He flipped it open. "Eh?" He grunted.

"Logan, it's Ororo. I need you to prepare a space in the infirmary for Charles."

He widened his eyes. "What?"

-----

The new mutants walked unenthusiastically out of the Danger Room, which was now restored to its normal form and looking completely undamaged. The elevator lifted them a floor, and opened to take them to the dormitory hallway. They resembled a troupe of astronauts walking out of their spaceship onto Earth surface after a tiring exploration. Ray looked particularly disgruntled; perhaps because of the terms by which he was awoken from his slumber. Bobby had slid some ice cubes down his pants, and it hadn't been the most pleasant awakening. Jubilee was walking with a slight limp with a grimace on her face, which was increased when she saw that Amara had skipped up to join her pace. "What do you want?"

Amara pulled her hair to her front and brushed it with her fingers while matching Jubilee's steps. "I just wanted to say…your performance. It was very impressive."

"Oh." Jubilee said in astonishment. "Uh…thanks."

"You're quite welcome." Amara fingered her hair more feverishly. "Er… I was wondering. If you could teach me…how to do that."

"I could give you some pointers." Jubilee tilted her head. "It's hard work, though. And it takes a while to get the movement right and everything. Are you **sure **you wanna?"

"Quite sure." Amara retorted impassively.

Jubilee eyed her nails coolly. "I guess. If you can handle it, I mean."

They glared at eachother, until the glares eventually melted away into strangely competitive smiles…slash smirks. Rahne, who was walking a few feet behind, shook her head at the odd rivalry/friendship that had sprung between them. Each of the new mutants retired to their rooms, looking forward to good night's rest until the sound of Logan pounding on their doors for the early morning session would awaken them in the wee hours 'til the morn.

Bliss.

-----

A/N: So by now, of course, you realize this chapter was basically 'Growing Pains', retold in a more new recruit-friendly perspective. And that I took a whole bunch of artistic liberties with the fine details. Well, I haven't seen this episode in a long time, and apparently Cartoon Network is being LAMELAMELAME by not showing X-Men: Evolution, so I used a bunch of screen caps (thank you, Haruka, wherever you are!) and twisted the storyline to my own benefit. Mwahah. And before you all hiss at me for kicking Jamie out of the chapter, don't worry. He gets his comeuppance in the chapters to come.

[1] – 'Erica Williams' is Scaleface. Name is taken from a friend who loves Ray and his crazy marijuana hair. However, she obviously doesn't love him as much as me. Who's the person who screams "LET'S FRY THIS TURKEY!!" every time she sees a computer? It sure isn't her, man.


	8. Disposable Parts

"KILL YOU."

- Jubilation Lee

**Turn, Smile, Shift, Repeat**

A/N: Hullo. I have SO TOTALLY CONQUERED animeluvr1's PROMPT. No, more than that! I whipped it with a wet towel and sent it crying home to its mama like a little girl! Hahah! _Yeesssss__._ Er, anyways. If you're interested at all, go ahead and take a look under my profile! It is swell and humorific, I believe, and is a refreshing change from my usual bundles of angst. (Hell, this thing would be an angst fic too, if it wasn't for my overbearing urge to make any dramatic sad scene become stupid and silly. This actually goes for all of my dramas, so technically, I don't write ANY angst.) Well, I don't know about you, but I didn't like my last chapter. It was Growing Pains rewritten, and I've come to realize that I hate rewriting episodes. Boring and predictable. However, I LOVE Power Surge. So many wonderful little things in that episode that makes me happy (some of which but is not included to Scott falling on his bum about 5 consecutive times. Aww. Nerd-Scott is so endearing!).

08-11-04: New omake up. [Refer to Ch. 3]

**Reviewer Responses**

Chaotic Boredom – MANGOS. Mangos, mangos, MANGOS.

cxigner – Pietro? But he's…er, well… you know. There WILL be Ray/Tabitha-ness! Patience, grasshopper. Thanks for continuously reviewing!

Risty – Sometimes, Roberto picks lint out of his bellybutton. But he doesn't tell anyone, because that's unstud-like. Not that that has anything to do with…anything. Thanks so much for all the kind and helpful words, yo.

The Uncanny R-Man – Aww, no. Though that does sound fun. A potty-mouthed Scots chick Rahne, I mean. But that's not quite the personality you see on Evo, and Evo's the only thing I'm going by, seeing as I've never owned a single comic in my life and wouldn't know the first thing about comic-Rahne. Thanks for reviewing again – tally ho, pip pip, wot wot, and all that.

Joey Tribbiani Fan – I concur. Much Evan squealing commence! I know it's tough, but encourage your brother. Unleashing his creative passion into the drums really does help a kid. I should know. It also cures a lot of severe traumatizing memories, in case that's helpful. And… I've once again left X-Men topic territory. _Blah_. Thanks for the review!

SilentStream – Evening works out, you know. He (she? It) will be fine, but thanks you for your concern anyways. Yeah, I know…me updating? And Roberto with a personality? Crazy stuff, man. Especially the updating. Terry Pratchett? Doesn't he collaborate with Neil Gaiman sometimes or something? Heard of him, haven't read of him. Why? Is he as intelligent and witty as I? (Pffft.)

Andivari – Truer words never spoken. As always, thank you for reviewing and not abandoning me and this fic halfway into its crappiness! That goes for all of you, of course.

MeltdownBabe__– Will do! Thanks so much for reviewing, ma'am.

pixie stix addict – Ray lovin' makes the world go 'round. Just like Jamie, and…whatever else I have used for that cliché. Yup, Scaleface was Ray's girlfriend in the comics. = MY HERO.) Anyways. Beer and painkillers? Now I want to experiment. Must break into parents' cabinets! Twiddle dee, twiddle dum. Thanks for everything, have some rum! (Tee hee. I am a nerd.)

Aslyin – Murderous ceiling fans? Luv, and you tell me **I** give you disturbing images. Although the visual is making me giggle rather than causing distress. And now you're making me blush! BLUSHBLUSHBLUSH. See? … you don't really wish you were me. I eat pistachio and wearing brightly colored 80's era Minnie Mouse shirts. Wait a sec – does that make me lame or hip?

todd fan – Nothing like a straightforward review! Ahhh. "Whoot", indeed. "Whoot", _indeed_.

amyro 4evah – Tee hee. You are cute and amuse me. But think of it this way – imagine Tabitha. Now imagine that guy from the Goonies. And now you see it like I do!

Snitter in Rivendell – Durn it. I still have that Goonies guy in my mind, and now I can't think straight, being blinded by my visualization of that hunky piece o' meat. Innyhoo! People love Ray. I love people who love Ray. And people love people who love people who love Ray. And Ray loves muffins. (But don't we all?)

animeluvr1 – Oh, I'm up for it, all right. INSERT CREEPY LAUGHTER HERE. Lady, you're zesty like zesty hot Pringles. Or maybe zesty hot Cheetos? Naw, cheetos get stuck in your teeth. And that wouldn't be zestfully clean, now would it?

Something Freakey – New reviewer! New reviewer! I shall dance! In my pants! Thanks for the review! I have an emu!

* * *

_You can waste your adoration and your tin little heart  
You will never get to take me with disposable parts  
  
In a dress  
To guess  
Then you taste  
And let it go to waste  
  
In your face  
Pure grace  
Be replaced  
With something else behind you  
  
And in my pocket I can keep you  
Put you away for another day  
To find you every time I need you  
Throw you away when the flavor goes out_

- Enon (High Society) … "Disposable Parts"

Chapter 8: Disposable Parts

Fred Dukes sat at the lunch table – the designated Brotherhood table – with his fellow team mates, his eyes on the mouthwatering Sloppy Joe before him. On his right, Todd was looking at his own meal indifferently, looking uninterested at the prospect of eating it, while across from him, Lance picked at his food with a plastic fork, his eyes not really on the plate before him, but rather, focused on a girl sitting at a table on the other side of the room, chatting animatedly with some of her Chemistry classmates. His face was set in its default grim tough-guy scowl, but Fred had caught a glimpse of it when Lance had stared at his schedule before crumpling it up a second later that day – it being an unusually wistful and dreamy face that made John Mayer look like a Hell's Angels member. Pietro sat at the other end of the table. He claimed it was to protect his nasal nerves from Todd. At the moment, he was chatting it up with a naive freshman girl sitting on the edge of the next table, who looked positively ecstatic and thrilled to be spoken to by him.

All this was going on without an ounce of Fred's notice, however. He was completely and blissfully ignorant of all his surroundings – his eyes were centered on the meal before him. To him, food was a blessing. He really did treasure every item of food that ever passed through his mouth (and that would be a lot). He wasn't stupid. (Well, maybe he was, but not as a person, you know? Not about being human and stuff. Fred wasn't sure – he just knew that morally, he probably was a better person all around than, say…Pietro. Speaking of which, the said person was now getting up to leave with naïve freshman girl #21, probably to go off in a corner and exchange saliva.) He watched the news, and knew very well about famine and starvation going on in third-world countries and the like. The thought of not being able to eat something when he wanted to frightened Fred, deeply. Sure the Brotherhood wasn't doing so good without Mystique, but they were well off enough to be able to have snacks around the house. The issue was never addressed directly, but Fred just chose to assume that Lance had gotten a job – that would explain how food kept on mysteriously reappearing in the cabinets. Todd had claimed it was the gift of the flamingo-gods, but somehow, Fred doubted that.

He was thankful that he was able to actually have the choice of wanting or not wanting to eat. So thankful, in fact, that last Thanksgiving, Fred had taken the money out of his treasured shoebox – the small amount of money that he had saved up while doing the freak show gig before Mystique got her claws in him that was supposed to have been used to retrieve his mother and have them live together in a humble, but cozy home – and used it to buy a turkey at the market. Pietro had scoffed and immediately alleged that Fred would burn it somehow; Todd had made a doubtful face and hopped off in favor of finding a safer, more reliable source of food; and Lance had stared at him bemusedly, like he was some kind of munificent simpleton to be mocked and pitied over. But to everyone's surprise, including, to a level, his own, the turkey had come out magnificently, looking almost classy enough to appear on the Food Network. Fred had beamed the whole night. Nothing was able to take his smile away. He started thinking maybe one day he could be a chef… that wouldn't be so bad. Then he voiced this notion, and Todd reminded him that unless he started "pulling greens out of his ass", it wasn't likely that he would ever be able to get anywhere near that close to being a chef – maybe a fry cook at a local Burger King. But not a real chef, attending cooking school and college and what have you.

Fred licked his lips. Yes, he appreciated the Sloppy Joe that the lunch ladies had prepared for him. His peers griped and moaned about the state of the food daily, but Fred knew that it was way better than eating poisonous spiders wrapped in leaves, like that one tribe they had seen on the Discovery Channel. (Apparently they squeezed the poison out of the spider like a packet of ketchup, then fried it up in a leaf on an open fire.)[1] Todd had been practically salivating at the display on the TV screen that day. He ate every chance he got – and he liked knowing he did. Because otherwise, it would probably just end up being wasted and tossed into the trash can.

Just as he had picked up the messy slabs of meat, sauce, and buns and began moving it towards his wide, gaping mouth, the cafeteria doors abruptly swung open, revealing a golden siren. She swept herself gracefully in (although gracefully might not have been the proper word for it…but Fred assumed that was what it was. Grace.), placed her hands strategically on her low jean-clad hips, and began moving her way through the sea of hungry adolescents.

Fred was not much of a poet – no, that was toeing it. To be blunt, Fred had never been creative in his life. When the 2nd grade teacher asked the class to draw self-portraits of themselves, most of the kids drew charmingly amateur drawings that only a 7-year old can produce. A few even went so far as to draw themselves as a butterfly ("They're pwetty, like my mommy says I am!" said the girl with a delightful lisp) or a snake ("They're really cool!" defended the boy), and the teacher had embraced these drawings as well and gave them A for originality. (She was kind of a hippie teacher, now that Fred remembered it, but nice enough anyways.) Fred had done was shuffle through the old photo albums. He hadn't been able to find any recent ones, as his mother seemed to have stopped taking pictures altogether after his father left them, so he got out his 1st grade yearbook and cut out his picture in there to glue onto a stick figure body. But all that aside, the vivacious girl who had enough moxie in her steps to stun twenty cheerleaders, was moving like a panther. Her movements were silky and had a surety to them – like she definitely knew what she was doing and where she was going. But also, with those silky smooth movements came a brash boldness, a kind of loudness that you can't hear but feel that seemed to have the potential to blow up the entire room if she wished it. The look in her eyes was predatory and voracious; there was a target in sight and she knew she was going to get it. For a breathtaking moment, Fred thought she was heading for him. She looked directly at him and a tiny smile graced her features, and at that single moment Fred's heart stopped. His entire body froze up; the only thing that kept on moving was the Sloppy Joe, with the meat sauce dripped down his hands and back down to the plate from whence it came. His mouth was still gaping open like a fish, and mentally, he knew he probably looked even thicker and stupider than Pietro said he usually did. But he couldn't move; he couldn't take his eyes from her; they were riveted on the panther goddess.

"Hey! Princess, move your royal ass and save me a seat!" She called out, maybe five feet away from the Brotherhood table. Her pace quickened when suddenly, she stopped short of where Fred sat and caught his eye. She grinned down at him from where she stood.

"See anything you like?" Her mouth was twisted in a grin that made Fred's heart all a-flutter.

"Tabby, Bobby took your seat!"

"Get your ass out of my spot, Drake!" Tabitha yelled and moved swiftly on by, brushing the back of Fred's shirt.

"Dude, keep your mouth open like that for a couple more minutes and bugs are gonna start flyin' into it." Todd said matter-of-factly. Fred, startled, dropping his burger to the table; it splattered with a sickening 'smush' sound that couldn't have been ordinary. Todd's face brightened up immediately afterwards upon seeing the now spread-out contents of the meat n' sauce.

"Hey, cool! Some pre-marinated dead bugs! Easy meal! SLURRRP."[2]

Fred merely sighed in response and stared at the table where the blonde enchantress sat among her friends, a dreamy smile on his face eerily similar to Lance's.[3]

-----

"Ah'm confused…what ah we doin' righ' now?"

Bobby rolled his eyes. "I _told_ you, Sam. We're having an assembly. You know, for the end of the girl's soccer and wrestling seasons."

Sam still looked a bit befuddled. "We're watchin' a game in school hours?"

"Naw, just some dinky awards to give out for the players' athletic prowess."

"Aww, look, guys! Bobby's learned to expand his vocabulary after a couple months' worth of sleeping in his English class!" Tabitha said with mocking sweet sugary overtones. She was bored right now – Amara had been unfortunately separated from her in the havoc-infested process of going to the auditorium, and was now sitting way over on the other side of the large room. Consequently, Tabitha had to invite herself in to sit with the boys. Not that that was such a bad thing, but boys were for flirting and throwing away like rag dolls. Not for goofing around and joking with. (That was where Jubilee, Tabitha sadly reflected, was wrong. The poor girl didn't know from girl to boy – she even hung out with males more often than the females. Tabitha couldn't fathom why she respected them so much.)

Bobby glowered. "Shuddap."

Tabby leaned over towards Bobby, forcing Sam to retreat and shrink himself backwards into his seat. "Aw, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, muffin." To add insult to pain (or rather, pain to insult), she clamped Bobby's cheek with two fingers and began wiggling and stretching them as much as she could.

"Oorrrwwwghhff!" Bobby yelled/mumbled.

On Bobby's other side sat a sulking Ray. He was bored and a bit more irritable than normal, as this day had been so far horrible to him. He had woken up late, having joined Bobby, Jubilee, and Roberto in a mini-Super Smash Brothers competition late the night before. Because of that, he was the very last to take a bath, even after Jamie, who grudgingly followed the so-called "eldest goes first" rules of the Institute that had been circled around as a rumor-ish fiction made with him specifically in mind. When he had finally gotten in and out of the shower, he had found that everybody had left just a minute before and was now therefore late, because nobody could give him a ride. Ororo was gone and the Professor off on business and Logan had given an answer that distinctly seemed to translate to "when hell freezes over, bub". The token fee for being late to school was taking on the chore duties for the day, so he had that to look forward to. So Ray had to walk to school. On the way there, he was bitten by a muffin – er, I mean, squirrel. And now he couldn't even manage to snag a seat next to Tabby! Instead, she was sitting between the two guys that irritated him most – Sam, with his goofy, "loveable" hick loser ways, and Roberto, who Ray just couldn't stop finding flaws and nitpicks in him. (He had somewhat complied with the Prof. to try to get to know Roberto, and vice versa, but their personalities seemed destined to clash against each other. Not something that could be helped. Ray picked fights with him as often as he could, and now that Roberto spoke much more often, so did he.)

Ray frowned. Come to think of it, Bobby annoyed him sometimes too. Like he was doing now, rocking his chair back and forth while humming some sort of Euro-techno mix song.

Tabby leaned forward once more, her painted lips in a pout. "What's wong, baby? You wook so gwoomy!"

Bobby chortled. "He's just mad because he's having a bad day. A lot of bad luck stuff."

"Psh. You believe in luck and all that superstition crap?" Tabitha scoffed.

Bobby looked surprised at the question. "Well, why not? One time, my uncle saw these two black cats when passing the cemetery, and the next day-"

"Lemme guess," Tabby interrupted with a dull voice, "He died."

Bobby blinked. "Uh, no, he didn't, actually. He won $300 from the lottery."

It was Tabitha's turn to blink. "Oh…ah."

"And then while he was walking home, his leg got mauled by two wild mountain lions. He used some of the lottery money to buy himself a fancy, rhinestone-incrusted prosthetic leg." A silence veiled over the four mutants.

Sam interjected into the conversation. "So…what does that mean?" He asked curiously.

Bobby shrugged. "I dunno. Just sayin' is all." He turned towards Ray. "Do you want to learn my technique for passing bad luck on to someone else? It's this thing my grandma made up, but I think it sort of works sometimes."

Ray arched an eyebrow skeptically. His mind, however, said, _Aw, fuggit. Why the hell not?_ "Sure." He said nonchalantly.

Bobby smacked the back of Ray's head. Ray proceeded to string a chain of curses that would put both a sailor and your average rapper – _combined_ – to shame. When people began staring, Sam tried to interrupt the tirade, his façade a bit flushed from Ray's vocabulary. "So…ya hafta hit someone to give 'em your bad luck?"

(Soon-to-be-known-as) Dead Bobby smiled sheepishly. "Actually, no. You just have to touch them somewhere in the back of the head and above the elbows– maybe on the shoulder or something. Then you have to say their name. But what I did to Ray is what my granny usually did on us, so I think maybe her way is the most accurate."

"Makes sense ta me." Sam grinned.

The boy turned back towards Ray. "So anyhow," he continued, oblivious of Ray's dangerous glare, "I've touched you, which should mean my bad luck's all on you. But I didn't say your name right afterwards. Would you like me to do it again?"

"Ah'll help!" Sam said cheerfully. He punched Ray in the shoulder. Ray tried to hide his wince and failed. Sam, for all his gawky lankiness was worth, obviously had scrounged up some strength working on a farm all those years, and severely underestimated his strength. "Ray!" Sam said with a naïve smile.

Ray was about to send electricity into them both right there when he finally noticed where Tabby had gone in the midst of their conversation. She was flirting with Roberto, who had been unusually quiet and inactive in their conversation. That would be because a cute girl was on the other side of him, looking a bit huffy from having Roberto stolen from her to chat with. Tabby had obviously gotten bored of the superstition ramblings and eyed Roberto talking to an attractive female other than her, triggering the vicious man-eating aspect of her personality.

"What're you doing talking to a bubblegum airhead ditz like her?" Tabitha asked Roberto, not bothering to lower her voice. The said ditzy airhead widened her eyes and quietly seethed.

Roberto shrugged. "She struck up a conversation with me. It's not illegal." He eyed her with an amused smirk. "Are you jealous, Tabitha?"

Tabitha rolled her eyes. "Screw that, Bertie. I'm just protective of my boys, is all. Ain't that right Sam? Bobby?"

Bobby merely rubbed his sore cheeks and glowered, while Sam remained suspiciously silent. Roberto settled back into his seat, looking supremely arrogant. Tabitha tweaked his ear before he could get too comfortable.

"You know, I miss old Roberto. The one who had extreme male-PMS all the time and gave everybody dirty looks while never talking. It was kind of sexy, in a grumpy mean 'Mr. Rochester' way." She gave the ear one last tug. "But I guess I could learn to get used to this one too. The overwhelming ego and self-confident arrogance is kinda hot."

The anonymous airhead girl blinked and interjected.

"_You_ read Jane Eyre?" Tabitha made a face at her.

"Like I said – one of us is a blonde bubblegum pop cookie-cutter idiot, and the other is actually a blonde, intelligent, sexy _woooo__-man_."[4]

Roberto slouched down his seat and grinned up at Tabitha. "Now who were you calling arrogant again?"

While Roberto and Tabitha quarreled flirtatiously with the other girl in the sidelines sulking and making the odd comment (now with Bobby eying her a bit), Ray got up from his seat.

"Where yah goin', Ray?" Sam inquired.

"Uh…to the bathroom. Yeah, to the bathroom." Ray got up to move towards the right aisle. He shoved past Bobby's shoes perched on the seat in front of him, stepped on Sam's poor ickle abused toes, and moved a tad bit gentler past Tabby's feet, also on the edge of the seat in front of her. Roberto was just ahead. Unfortunately, fate (or was it luck?) called Ray's foot down upon his own loose shoe tie. He tripped, his arms wavering up in the air unsteadily. They fell short of Roberto's shoulder and tipped over his balance. The blonde girl next to Roberto shrieked as he practically fell into her lap. By this time, their row had garnered quite an audience. An audience big enough to capture a certain leader's attention.

Before Ray could even lift his head from where it had crashed into the girl's elbow, the "ditz" shoved him away from her. He stumbled off of her and clung into the closest thing he could grab anchor to. A very tall shoulder. _That can't be Roberto,_ his mind said vaguely. He was a bit dizzy. _Roberto's a frickin' oompah loompah, he's hella short…_

"RAY!" The said person raised his eyes and jumped away. "Scott!" He exclaimed. "Oh, fuck – I mean, shit – ah, fuck, I meant – son of a bitch – uhh -" He quickly tried to recover from his repetitive fumbles, and knew it was a bit too late, as every passing second made Scott's expression become tighter and his mouth line angrier.

"Ass fuck, I meant to say – crap, I… um, darn it. Sorry."

"Very good, Ray! Now if you just strike out the first 10 stumbled words from the record, you'll be in the clear!" Tabby cheered.

"Not helping, Tabitha." Scott said sternly.

"_Pffft__._ Since when have I ever?"

Ignoring the last statement, Scott re-directed his ruby quartz-covered eyes to the guilty New York street punk. "Ray, I would very much like to do horrible, painful things to you at this moment. Do not think this time it is over when I tell the professor, like your little light-up incident. I _will not relent_ in my pursuit for your imminent torture. Right now, I shall -"

"Will everybody please take their seat now? Quiet down please, the assembly is starting." said Principal Kelly from the podium below. Scott gave Ray one last awful look, mouthed "_This is not over_" and walked down three rows and to the left to sit down next to Kurt. Ray felt his body slouch and loosen its tension, and slinked moodily back to his seat. Bobby gave him an appraising look.

"God, what a tight ass. I'm starting to think there really _is_ a stick lodged up in his anus." Bobby whispered. Ray bit his lip to fight from laughing and simply scowled in reply. He crossed his arms and settled back deep into his chair, mentally hoping this would be over and done very quickly as Jean walked out of the curtains and onto the stage.

-----

"Why are we walking home? Couldn't Miss Munroe pick us up from the bus stop?" Jamie whined for the fourth time that afternoon in a very typical stubborn baby "I-dun-wanna" kind of voice. Jubilee felt her eye twitch, but Rahne, who was a little less irritable, kindly answered him for a turn. She, however, fancified the

"_Because_, Jamie – everybody's too busy tae pick us up. Remember? Today's Miss Jean's award ceremony. We're going tae have a party fur her tomorrow, and the adults are preparing!"

Jamie visibly brightened by two or three shades. "A party? Really?"

"Yes, and then we're going to have some hippos for tea time." Jubilee grumbled. Rahne jabbed her lightly with her elbow while Jamie, unaware of Jubilee's comment, started doing a tiny mini-dance/boogie/crazed twitchy seizure. She gave Jubilee a very pointed look that said 'Well, the lie worked, didn't it?' The Scot girl turned her head back towards Jamie to make sure he was a safe distance behind them while still in view and leaned closer towards her friend.

"Are ye going tae ask Bobby out tonigh'?" She whispered. Jubilee's face flushed a bright red in .07 seconds flat – she was quite easily embarrassed for someone so brash and loud when concerning boys, it seemed.

"What are you talkin' about?" Jubilee said in a very loud, peculiar voice. Rahne gave her a strange look when she started laughing at full volume in a nervous sort of way. "HAHAHAH! HAH. GOOD ONE, RAHNE_i'mgoingtostrangleyouwhenwegethome_." Jubilee said very quickly, all in one breath while still smiling gaily. Rahne gulped. It would be very easy for Jubilee to, too – they were sharing a room, and it would be only too easy to corner Rahne in private and suffocate her with a pillow. (Jubilee's old room that she shared with Amara was still under…construction… and was nearly completely tidied up. However, it seemed to the Professor that Rahne and Jubilee were getting along nicely, while Tabitha and Amara were bonding fast as well, despite Tabitha's habits. So he didn't say anything to the girls, and they seemed entirely content with it.)

"What is the meaning of _keeping a secret_? Did you somehow FORGET?" Jubilee whispered loudly (A/N: oxymoron anyone?) while darting uneasy looks back at the still oblivious Jamie. Rahne rolled her eyes at her friend's paranoia.

"Come off it; he didn' hear anything. So – _are_ yeh?"

Jubilee glared at the petite redhead before reluctantly replying. "I…don't know. I-I'm starting to reconsider the whole liking business."

"What? Why?" Rahne asked wonderingly. Jubilee kicked at a nearby rock absently with a sullen face. Poor rock. It didn't deserve that.

"Oh, come on Rahne; look at me."

"I'm lookin', lass."

"Now picture Tabitha, and then you'll know why I'm pouting."

Rahne sighed loudly with exaggerated gusto. "Oh, PLEASE, Jubilee. Bobby's not interested in Tabby! I mean, sure he looks every once in a while, but every boy does, it's Tabby…"

"You're not helping. Like, at _all_."

"What I'm saying is this: Tabitha's fur lookin', darling. Not for touchin'. He don't have feelings for her – unless he's very stupid. Which, by dae way, he is, but no' abou' stuff like that."

"Right." But Jubilee still looked depressed and skeptical. "But I'm like…what, three? FOUR years younger than him? Why would he go out with an EIGHTH GRADER?"

Rahne patted her back sympathetically. "Because ye are a talented, pretty, funny, brilliant lovely of a gal."

Jubilee pretended to wipe away an imaginary tear. "Aww… you forgot nice."

"No, I didn'." Rahne grinned cheekily at her before jumping away from Jubilee's kick and ran quickly away, her accelerated agility having an advantage. Jubilee laughed.

"Come on Jamie, catch up!" She began sprinting forth before glancing back, and nearly simultaneously tripped over her own head and choked. Jamie was nowhere to be seen.

"Jamie? Jamie! JAMIE!" Jubilee started yelling, beginning to get a tiny bit hysterical. Rahne came running back, looking puzzled by Jubilee's shouts. "What's wrong?"

"Jamie! I can't find him! Where is he??"

Rahne widened her eyes for a moment before whirling around and yelling herself. "JAMIE! Jay-meeee, where are ye?!! Curse ye, lad; so irresponsible!"

"JAAAAAMMIIIEEEE!" They began searching through the area. Jubilee hopped over the fence from the sign that said "DON'T FEED THE WILDLIFE" while Rahne readied to transform, until she froze up when a car passed by. Jubilee returned, looking pale. "Where could he be? There's nothing but flat road for miles, and he can't possibly be stupid enough to go in that deep in the forest, right??"

Rahne bit her lip. "I don't -"

"I'm right here you guys! Geez!" Jubilee and Rahne spun to see Jamie behind them, giggling.

"JAMIE! Where did you come from? Where did you go? How could you be so IRRESPONSIBLE?!" Jubilee ran up to hug him, when he suddenly disappeared, right before her eyes. She gasped. "AHH! WHAT DID I DO?!" Jubilee screamed.

"What did ye do!?!" Rahne screamed. They heard a noise, and jumped to find Jamie – the real Jamie, not a multiple - drop from a high branch before them. He brushed himself off and made a little pose that seemed to signal 'ta-daaaa!'. Jubilee once again ran up towards him. Jamie opened his arms to accept hug when –

"OW!" Jubilee swatted him lightly upside the head. "JAMIE! Stop giggling! It's cruel! We were worried!"

"I'm sorry, guys." Jamie giggled out before at last stopping. "It was just funny to me. You were so deep in your conversation you didn't even notice me climbing the tree!"

Jubilee looked like she was ready to kill. "Next time, you might as well get lost and not bother to return, Jamie! That was a horrible, mean thing to do!"

Rahne glowered, her sunny disposition suddenly put out by the not-quite-funny prank. "Jamie, Jubilee knows funny. Bobby knows funny. Sometimes Tabitha knows funny, when funny isn't concerning stealing or blowing up things. _That_ wasn't funny." She was breathing a bit hard. The memory of Amara being kidnapped – the panic, the sheer fright – swam up inside her mind.

Jubilee broke up the awkward spell by quickly resuming the walking pace, now at a much faster speed.

"C'mon, then. Let's go home." There was no trace of jovialness or – excuse the pun – or not? PUNPUNPUNPUN! – jubilee in her steps.

By the time they had reached home, the high schoolers were home already as well, moving around the house doing their own thing, whether it was in search of after-school snacks, doing/avoiding homework, or being summoned to the professor's study, as was Ray's case when he passed by the trio at the entrance. Jamie waited until he was halfway done stalking across the room and Jubilee and Rahne, still resentful, were gone for a few seconds before running up to him. "Hi Ray! I was -"

"Not now, kiddo." Ray cut him off before he could finish. It was obvious by his tone that that was his final answer. Jamie watched him drag himself away into the professor's office, looking angry and depressed. He sighed and looked around a bit lonesome-like when Bobby and Sam came running out laughing uncontrollably.

"Bobby, Sam! Can I play?" Jamie asked hopefully.

"Maybe when you're older!" Bobby yelled out quickly before exiting through the doors. Sam actually stopped for a second to smile apologetically to the boy – at least, until Amara appeared, clad in only a securely-tied bathrobe, shower cap, and dripping wet. She looked madder than a mad cow. (A/N: Ooooh! _SUUUURRVEVEDD. _:B)

"TREASURE THESE LAST MOMENTS, SAM! BECAUSE YOU AND BOBBY WILL BE DEADER THAN DEAD IN ABOUT TWO SECONDS!" Amara roared, her shower cap igniting into flames as she fired up upon saying the last two words with more passion. Sam gulped and took off like a burglar, with Amara close at his heels. Jamie was still pondering what on earth Bobby and Sam had done when he realized it. In the back of Amara's damp hair were dead bugs – and some alive ones, clinging on and tangled in. He grinned for a moment before slumping his shoulders. Well, that obviously looked too fun for Jamie to be allowed to participate in. Bobby's words rang in his head: _Maybe when you're older._ Jamie pouted cutely. That was their excuse for everything! At least before, Jubilee and Rahne had been a little nicer and sympathetic to his age difference plight than the others since they were closest to his age. And now they hated him, he had _nobody_, because he'd been stupid and hurt their feelings.

Maybe Jubilee was right. Maybe he should just leave. It would make everyone happier anyways, right? If they even noticed. Jamie stifled from crying, trying hard to force the water down from his eyes and hold back sniffling. _Try to be mature now, Jamie. Maybe you'll get good enough at it for them to want you back. Maybe if you stop acting like such a baby…_

He left to his room he shared with Bobby and Sam to self-dispute over this.

-----

The great thing about the Institute at night was that things had settled way down by then. Normally, the time when adolescents positively _thrive_ is at night. But the adults – especially Logan – made sure it was different at the Xavier Institute. Everyone had to do their chores before dinner (the exception, of course, being washing the dinner plates). The afternoon Danger Room session took place right before dinner as well, so that meant chores were to be done before even the Danger Room session. The smart ones made sure to do their homework right when they got home, but the procrastinating types (they actually made up more than half the school) stayed up late to do their homework – even after being tuckered out by Logan's insane session. Unfortunately, procrastinating types are what they are – procrastinating people. Therefore, they want to stay with the smart people who did their homework already downstairs to watch TV and forget their stress while laughing at scantily-dressed inheritance girls traveling the country on a road trip. They then end up staying up in the wee hours of the morn, trying to finish their homework without success, fall asleep, wake up at their desk with drool on their paper, and try to scribble on two or three answers from their room mate before they wake up – if they're lucky enough to have a smart room mate.

Jean was, of course, the most notorious smart ones there was, both at Xavier's and at Bayville High. She had standards that many could not hope to meet up to. She wasn't genius smart, per se – she was just an incredibly diligent hard worker. Sometimes she got annoyed by Kitty – her combination of Valley Girl ditziness with an IQ of 128 was something Jean couldn't fathom, nor hope to be. She had always been forced to be this – the role model that everyone looked up to. And she succeeded, as she always did in life. Even Kitty, gifted as she was, admired Jean, if not for her smarts, then for her beauty and talent. Because Jean was _perfect_. Whenever Rogue called her Miss Perfect or some other sort of sarcastic nick name like that, both Rogue and Jean and everyone knew it was true. It was a title that Jean had strived for nearly all her life. And when you start a habit of things, it's hard to break them. Jean would never be able to break out of her Miss Perfect mold. The question was, did she_ want_ to?

The tall redhead looked down at the trophy in her hands. Her mind could not be set to ease. Ever since the incident at the assembly, her mind was restless, and kept on drifting and wandering off. Not in the literal sense of course, but Jean almost felt it was. She couldn't place it exactly – whether it was a migraine or what. She just felt… peculiar. Off.

"Jean? Do you need a ride?" Scott knocked on the door before opening and entering her room. "Jean? You there?" He moved the glass sliding door out of the way to where she stood, leaning against the balcony.

"Hi Scott. It's fine, Duncan's on his way right now to take me early. I'm going to help him set up the drinks and food." Jean cast a curious eye on him. "Do you want to come with? I mean, you probably don't want to come early, but it is more convenient…"

"Ahh. Err, well, I would, but – errm, see, I've…got to…euh, prepare my outfit."

Jean barely suppressed her laugh. _God, Scott, you're such an awful liar. So why do you even bother? I'm a telepath, for crying out loud._ "Right." She nodded and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, offering a warm smile. "Then I'll see you there?"

"Definitely." He smiled back before it fell and hesitantly spoke up again. "Uh…Jean…are you alright? Because…what happened at the assembly…"

"Oh, don't worry about that. It was just a headache. You know how I've been complaining of those a lot lately." Jean lied through her teeth, smiling all the way. If Scott was going to lie to her face and keep secrets from her, then so would she. Even Miss Perfect isn't perfect sometimes.

As Scott, looking reassured, gave her a last good bye before departing the room, Jean lingered her thoughts on the tall, lanky leader of the X-Men. Even though Scott was Scott, and had always been Scott – boring, predictable, I've-got-to-have-a-routine-for-everything Scott, he always tried to hide his past from her. It infuriated her. For him to assume they were best friends sometimes bordering on something more – but keep secrets from her? It was maddening. When Jean had first found out – two Christmases ago, when everybody was talking about family and friends and love and whatnot, Scott had his guard and shield down. Jean had thought he was fine, when a few louder-than-expected thoughts snuck out from Scott's mind for Jean's ear to hear that made him sound surprisingly somber and unhappy. It was something concerning his family. She had felt too guilty to pry further at the time, but later had to resist the temptation over and over again with reluctant conscience. Why? Because she was angry! Jean had always told Scott everything – absolutely _everything_ – to him. There had been no secrecy on her part, and she had believed it was the same for him. When she realized that he had, all this time, been lying to her, her mirror literally shattered.

From then on, she swore never to get closer to Scott Summers than friends. Even though she really, _really_ wanted to be with him. (And he even more so with her.) She had to make him squirm – make him feel guilty for betraying her trust; make him realize he was in the wrong for making her believe they were really best friends. Her old best friend never…

She swallowed the knot in her throat. It was hard to think about Marissa, even after all these years. For a moment, she once again pondered why on earth her mind was drifting and touching upon dusty age-old topics that hadn't surface in her head for years, until she shook it out and tried to remember what she had been thinking about.

Scott liked her. Maybe even loved her. But certainly, he wasn't _in _love with her, try as he might pretend to act like it, or as all of her friends repeatedly cried to her. Those cries fell deaf to her ears, and his act was anything but real. And she would make him pay for making her think that it was. Her heart wasn't to be used like a dirty rag. She treasured it, and never gave it away. And to make him suffer and squirm, she knew the best way to get to him – jealousy. That was where Duncan – slow-minded, immature, handsome football legend Duncan came in. He was shallow and superficial and, as Jean could read in his mind, did not and would never consider their relationship steady or anything serious. She liked that. It was safe – that way, she knew her heart wouldn't be ruthlessly tugged by the strings and ripped apart. He was athletic and brawny and attractive in that stereotypical jock sort of way – his broken nose even just made him more rugged and handsome-looking. He was pretty much the exact opposite of Scott. That just further confirmed the safety of her affections.

"Hello? Jean?"

The psychic turned her head to see the slender, pretty new recruit, Amara, step inside her room. She motioned for Amara to join her outside at the terrace, although she really preferred to be alone at the moment. Miss Perfect is friendly and outgoing all the time, no matter what, and it would be imperfect of her to not invite. Fortunately, the princess shook her head.

"No, I won't be long. I was just wondering if you have any perfume that I could borrow. If at all possible, flower-scented."

Jean arched an eyebrow. "Really? Are you going on a date with one of the boys?" She asked in a mischievous tone. Instead of giggling and a blush, as Jean had expected, Amara stared at her like she had some huge deformity on her face with a mixture of incredulity.

"You are joking, of course? I'd never go out with those filthy peasant savages!" Amara scoffed. "They are not only beneath me, but are not fit to be in my presence, let alone…ugh, _kiss_ me." She shuddered at the last part, literally growing goose bumps on her arms. Though that might've also been due to the sudden breeze blowing. Jean felt it too, and left the outside terrace to join Amara inside her room, closing the sliding door behind her. She had a tiny grin on her face. Amara was unafraid of words, and said what she wanted. It had been a while since she had met someone like that. Inside, Jean's conscience twisted. She had not given much effort to befriending the new recruits at all. Even though her duty and responsibility that had been imparted on her by Professor Xavier was to befriend and extend an arm to all the mutants… she had been so busy doing that to all of the outside ones that she hadn't done enough of it with the ones living with her!

"So what is the perfume for, then? Experimentation?" Jean walked towards her dresser and vanity mirror, where all of her make-up and framed photos sat atop. Amara observed Jean's room with relative interest, looking around a bit before realizing Jean had spoken to her and jumped. "Oh, yes, errm…you could call it that."

"Ahh." Jean pulled out some drawers and shuffled around. Hmm. A little messier than usual. This was not Miss Perfect material, not at all. "So how are you liking your stay here so far? Are you enjoying what parts that don't involve Logan pulling you out at 6 AM for Danger Room sessions?"

"Oh, I suppose. It was…difficult for me, at first, but I've grown used to it and find myself enjoying it more and more everyday." The dark-haired girl stood strangely silent and still for a moment, her head bowed down. Jean was about to say something to strike up conversation again when Amara resumed.

"This place has taught me much in just a few months. I thought I knew everything there was to life in Nova Roma, but…" Amara pulled her arms around herself as if she were cold. Jean glanced for a split second at the sliding door to make sure it was closed, and found it was so. "…It has been difficult, transitioning from there to here. I have to say, the reason I was so cold and rude to people…partly it was because of my upbringing, and it was also partly because I was afraid."

Jean halted her ruffling-busily-through-the-drawers-act and reached waves of empathy to the young girl. Fear was something Jean could relate to, very well. It was something that constantly haunted her steps. The fear of failing; of letting everyone down; letting herself down…

"It's natural to drive people away when you're scared. You just want to be by yourself." Jean patted her back. She thought Amara would retreat away hastily, as she seemed like the person to do that sort of thing, but surprisingly, she didn't.

"That is true. I felt very alone, even surrounded by so many people." Amara looked up from the strands of rich dark hair covering half her face, and her eyes seemed to glow. "Even when I was surrounded by so many people who were supposedly…just like…me…"

Jean's throat constricted. Hating herself…hating being a mutant…a _freak_… not normal. Different from everyone else – even your own family, and not even in the good way.

"I have grown to them, of course." Amara's queer look in her eyes disappeared, and she practically threw her head up high in the air where it belonged – the imperious nose pointed high above. Her voice became strong and commanding once again. "They are not so bad for lower-class plebeians. Most of them, anyways. I can not vouch for the 'boys' and their dead bug-loving ways."

"Erp?" Jean inquired, transcending from "empathy" to "befuddlement" in two seconds flat. That was hardly Miss Perfect-like either, Jean. Three strikes. You fail.

Amara sniffed daintily and snatched the tiny pink vial that Jean held in her hand. "Do you have any honey? You know, authentic bee-made honey?"

"Why?"

Amara grinned evilly; a grin not unlike many a new recruit's expression, but it most outstandingly matched Tabitha's. She gave the perfume a tiny spray into the air. "It is to be a gift to Bobby and Sam." She sniffed, for real this time, and her long eyelashes fluttered while her eyes widened and she made a pleasant "Oooh!" sound. "This is quite lovely! I thought everybody's taste in smell was even worse than Tabitha's, whose scent is fine enough once you get used to the hussy brazen aspects of it… but this is…well, is it jasmine?"

"Oh, yes, I love jasmine. My favorite flower. You can keep it, if you like. I can get more easily." Jean smiled pleasantly and graciously. Only a true Miss Perfect could retain a sense of feminism and outdoorsy sporty soccer chick while at the same time being feminine and delicate. And only a true Miss Perfect would give away an expensive perfume just like that with such charity! At the same time, however, her head hurt most spectacularly. There was a loud beeping sound that could be the start of a migraine…no, wait, it was just the sound of Duncan's car horn. He wouldn't even come out of his car to ring the doorbell? How un-gentleman like. Fabulous. Jean twirled for Amara.

"How do I look?" _Please say 'nice', please say 'nice', it's not Miss Perfect if it isn't nice…_

Amara swept her eyes up and down for a moment before smiling. "It is nice. Hip and slim-fitting enough to show off your curves, but elegant enough not to be trashy. I approve."

Jean smiled back – a real genuine smile, the first one in a while. "Thank you. That was _exactly_ what I was going for."

-----

Kurt was rubbing furiously at his nose. No, reader, he didn't have an itch or was trying to pick some gold out of the treasure box – his sensitive nose (gifted at sniffing out delicious food, although it failed him when Kitty was cooking) was stinging from the encounter with Kitty. He had teleported to the hall, and at that same moment, Kitty was walking down the same hall. She walked into him, looking too late, and they crashed into each other. Lying crumpled up on the floor with his head underneath the back of Kitty's shirt, Kurt smelled a most hideous scent. The smell of someone who hadn't bathed in two years, and then swam in a sea of garbage sewage and dead rotten things. But then, his prankster-loving side instinctively recognized it – _le stink bomb._

His eyes practically welled up just from the fresh memory. _Oh, great! _He thought, and started rubbing at his eyes with his other hand to avoid transferring the stinging from his nose to his eyes. Because of that, he bumped into someone for the second time that day.

"Ahh!" THUD.

"Oof!" THUD.

Kurt rubbed his head and got up. This time around, it wasn't nearly as painful. It appeared the other victim was a bit more hurt. "Are you okay? I hope Kitty's scent didn't rub off from me to you. Oh, Amara!" He exclaimed as she stirred from the floor and groaned. Quickly, he tried to be a gentleman and help her up, but she swatted him away.

"I'm fine, I don't need your help, idiot…oh." Amara looked up and saw someone else than she had assumed to be. Kurt's face was filled with hurt, but he quickly hid it in favor of an amused smile. "Kurt! Oh, geez. I'm sorry, I thought you were someone else."

"Who are you so mad at to call 'idiot'?" Kurt asked, helping her up with an extended hand without being rejected. "I vould not like to be zat person." He said jokingly.

"Ha ha." Amara said humorlessly. "I should think not." Amara brushed imaginary dirt off of her clothes. Kurt breathed in, and was pleasantly surprised to find the aroma pleasant.

"Danke! Your flowery scent, vhile a tad on ze girly side, has cleared my sinuses of gross icky Kitty stink bomb smell!"

Amara blinked as Kurt gathered her up and hugged her, lifting her up from the floor. "Err…you're welcome then, Kurt." Having spent some length at the Institute, Kurt was still the only male she genuinely liked and respected. He was goofy and fooled around like all the rest of him, but at the same time, he carried a sense of elegance and kind gentlemen qualities that were apt to be found in Nova Roma. That was one of the things that puzzled the girl most in America – here, jokesters and fools and the equivalent of "village idiots" were actually praised and more admired by your peers than the kind, polite ones with etiquette? _How bizarre_, the foreign noble had thought.

"Amara! _There _you are! Oh good, you've got the perfume. I have the honey. Come on, stop flirting with wild blue yonder boy and get a move on! We are going to go out and pay revenge to those dumb asses Bobby and Sam before the night is up, however sweet and innocent they appear to be!" Tabitha appeared out of nowhere and swept Amara away by grabbing her arm and dragging her away. Kurt blinked, offended, while Amara gave a despairing, apologetic look to him.

"Wild blue yonder boy?!" He exclaimed. Tabitha glanced back and winked. "Don't worry Smurf-Kurt; you're cuter than all the other boys anyways!"

"SMURF-KURT?!!"

"What's a Smurf, Tabby?"

-----

20 minutes later, Bobby, Sam, Rahne, and Jubilee were outside. A complete fiasco had ensued in that quarter-hour – Bobby and Sam had gotten completely soaked with jasmine-scented perfume and bucketfuls of honey; Jubilee had shrieked and started to throw firecrackers at the bees that had appeared from the nearby hive in the trees which had 1. turned out to not be very smart and 2. made the bees very angry; Rahne tried to divert their attention by transforming into a wolf but failed; Bobby found a neat little trick and iced himself over completely; which left Sam to fend for himself and cannonball (A/N: PUNPUNPUNPUH – ah, screw it, that one was too easy.) to the nearest body of water, which was the pool, even though it was early November; and after they had retrieved a freezing, shivering Sam in a state near to hypothermia, Tabitha and Amara revealed themselves from their location behind some bushes and were laughing their asses off; what resulted was death, doom, destruction, and/or lots of ice, fireworks, molten lava, and cherry bombs. (Somehow, miraculously, Scott's car parked in front was not scratched at all. Perhaps Bobby and Sam's bad luck truly did all go to Ray.) In the midst of this, Sam and Rahne, the only two present in the impromptu mutant fight without air projectile element-type powers, grew bored, and started a mini tag game of their own. It could've also been seen as frisbee without a frisbee, as Rahne transformed into her wolf form and began leading Sam on a chase around the Institute. Eventually, all this came to pass over, and Tabitha and Amara retired to the inside because it was getting chilly and fast approaching dark. ("That", Tabby added as they left, "or go bother Turkey and Bertie. They've suspiciously been too quiet for too long.") That left Jubilee and Bobby, both of whom were currently deep in an intense round of 'thumb war'. They grew tired of sitting on the stone steps ("My bottom is freezing. You shouldn't have iced EVERYTHING over, Bobby.") and leaned against Scott's fancy-shmancy red sports car, playing 3 out of 5, 5 out of 7, and so forth.

"HAHAH! I win! I win! Jubilation Lee is the winner! Huzzah! Sound the trumpets! NO ONE in the land can beat Jubilation the J- err – JUHBEAUTIFUL!" Jubilee boasted, dancing about immaturely. Bobby watched her, a mixture of amusement and the disappointment of losing displayed in his face.

"That doesn't make sense! "Juh-beautiful"?" Bobby challenged.

"In the land of Jubileria, words need not make sense!" Jubilee proved this point by – sticking out her tongue. Marvelous.

"Heh. Right. Stop bragging, or else I will freeze your tongue off."

"Gasp! You wouldn't! Not to a _lay-dee_."

"You are not a lady. You are a mean braggart."

Jubilee pouted, but leaned back against the car next to him again. Inwardly, she was cursing himself. _GREAT! Now he doesn't even think of me as a chick, just one of the guys! Oh GOOD GOD, maybe even his LITTLE BROTHER. Ugh, this is secondary school all over again. Must stop being a tomboy. …Can not. Still like bugs and fart jokes. Urgh._

__In the silence, Bobby cocked his head sideways and grinned with a knowing look in his eyes. Jubilee eyed him suspiciously. "What? Stop staring at me like that, or else **I** will burn your eyebrows off, knave!"

"I was just thinking how weird a name 'Jubilation' is. Heh."

Jubilee raised her balled-up fist threateningly. "I am warning you, Bobby…I can punch HARD…I am blessed with my natural Chinese-born blessed kung-fu abilities…"

Bobby raised his hands in surrender. "I'm just wondering! No, really. Why'd your parents name you that?"

"They were hippies."

"Seriously."

Jubilee slumped her shoulders in relent. "Okay, okay, fine, you want to hear the boring version. My parents had been trying to get a baby for a really long time, and by the time I was born, my mom had already gone through 5 miscarriages. I was actually a premature born baby and had, like, 50% chance of surviving, and when I did, they considered it a change of course in their luck coded in the stars – that I was their luck and fortune and destiny, blablablah. My dad was considering naming me Lucky or Star, but my mom said Jubilation was prettier, and described what joy I brought to them. I'm glad anyways – at least I don't have the namesake of a cartoon cereal box leprechaun."

"That's…" Bobby carefully considered his choice of words. "Cool."

"Really? 'Cause I hate my name. I LOATHE it. It's awful and weird and strange."

Bobby looked shocked. "But why? You defend it so heatedly, I would think…"

"Aw, I don't want to dishonor my parents' memory or anything. I have to…" Jubilee faltered, and trailed off awkwardly, looking upset and confused. Oblivious to her warbling, Bobby resumed control of the conversation. "Well, this is what I'm thinking: let's think of nicknames for you!"

Jubilee snapped out of her reverie and looked at the blonde-haired boy uncertainly. "Nick name? Earth to Iceman – I already have one. Jubilee? From Jubilation? It works that way."

"Nicknames are fun. The more you have, the cooler you are." Bobby paused. "Did you just call me Iceman?"

"Yeah. I made it up, nickname boy."

"Naw, stick with Iceman! It sounds – _tough_." Bobby stuck out his chest. Jubilee coughed, trying to hide her laughter.

"So how about…Jubes. Jubes is nice."

"Rhymes with boobs."

"Jubjub?"

"What the heck? Sounds like a Pokemon or something."

"How 'bout Jubi? Jubi's cute!"

"Sounds like Jujubes. And those are nasty."

"Jujubes! Hah! That's awesome!"

"Is not! You better not call me that."

"Would you prefer Jububus?"

"No, I -"

"Ahhh, I realize now. You want Juboobies, Miss Juh-Beautiful."

"Shut. Up. NOW."

"What's wrong, Jumbalaya? Do you want some jambalaya with your juboobies, Miss JubiJubjub Jubes?"

"KILL YOU."

"Jubilee Lee, right? Lee Lee! Lee? Lee La Lee? La Lee? Lolly! Jubi Lolly! Now THAT is a great nickname. It also somewhat resembles a porn star name…"

"KILL YOU _SO HARD._"

"No, wait, a REAL porn star name would be Juboobies Juh-Beautiful Jubjubs. That would be awesome."

"YARGH!" Jubilee jumped him.

The next 5 minutes were well-spent, in Jubilee's opinion, pulling at Bobby's hair (which completely ruined his careful dorky parted hair – his mother would be so ashamed!), gnawing at his shoulder, and pulling at his ears. Eventually the tumble calmed down, and Jubilee forgave Bobby when he made a tiny ice ballerina figurine for her. It was quite breathtaking, and Jubilee quietly commented that Bobby should be an artist.

"Maybe." Bobby started to carve in painstaking tiny details. A charming little ribbon in the ballerina's hair, which was divided into tiny, tiny miniscule strands. Slanted, dark, vibrant eyes that resembled Jubilee's a bit… he spun it around and released from the palm of his hand a light sprinkle of fairy-like snow, so tiny and thin that they resembled glittering dots of light. Jubilee gasped with delight and leaned in closer, her cheek nearly touching Bobby's.

Two separate thoughts of two different beings:

_This would be the perfect time to say something about us._

_Holy crap, I have the biggest wedgie **ever**._

__Try to differentiate and identify which thought belongs to which person. Meanwhile – Scott is running late! Late, late, late! Late for a very important date/ brush off by Jean in favor of Duncan!

"WHOA!" SLIP.

"EYAAHH!" SLIDE.

"ARGH!" THUD.

"BLARGH!" **HURT'D!**

****"Ugh, my head… Bobby, clean up your -BEEP-in' ice!"

Scott drove off, looking extremely testy and PMS-like. Bobby and Jubilee stared at the dust that rose up. Bobby voiced the question they had both been pondering.

"…Did he just say 'beep' instead of fuck?"

Jubilee and Bobby stared at each other, and then burst into laughter.

Oh, Scotty. You silly head.

-----

[1] – Tru3 stuph. Though it might not have been Discovery Channel. Whatever it was, it seriously made me appreciate the instant macaroni I had that night.

[2] – Another true story – a dead fly in my cafeteria meal one fateful day in 3rd grade. Although it wasn't a burger or whatever. Oh, noooo. It was inside a Taco Bell-sponsored bean burrito. And it had been sealed inside a little plastic covering and everything, so the fly must've gotten in there way early in the process, which made me swear off Taco Bell and school food for the rest of my life.

[3] – Alright, so the Brotherhood had nothing to do with this episode (except for maybe the Lance/Kitty) and really didn't need any special characterization or scenes worked in this chapter for them. Do you really care? Oh, you do? FIGHT YOU! I like writing the Brotherhood. And I will try to, every chance I get. _Useless as it may be._ Got that? PUNK?

[4] – As it turns out…Tabitha's a bitch too. :D See, this is one of those things where even though you love the fun and over-the-top characters like her, you KNOW you'd go insane if your friends were anything like them. I love Tabitha for the rude, smutty, loud kleptomaniac she is. And if she were real, I'd be friends with her. Just not CLOSE friends – not the close ones where she knows where you live and raids your fridge and closet any time she wants. If I were Lance and loved that Jeep as much as he does, I would've made her come to fear the words "Lance" and "rock". Damn straight!

A/N: Doggone it! I can't believe I didn't finish the Power Surge episode in one chapter. I just felt it was dragging too much, and it would feel better as a two-part thing. Besides – most of my chapters take the course of one day anyways, so might as well split this episode up into the two days it took place over. You know what I just realized? If anybody's seen King of the Hill before – they know the son, right? He's blonde and his name's Bobby. And then he dates his neighbor, this Chinese girl whose name I can't remember at the moment. And I'm just imagining them as Bobby and Jubilee and – tee hee. It's making me snort and giggle childishly.

Next chapter? I'd rather keep it a surprise, luffs. :3 Of course, you know already what's going to happen with Jean and all that, but I do have some tricks of my own up my sleeve.

Dudes, I don't know if you can tell, but as much as I love this chapter in all its hints of new recruit couple-yness and poor abused cute Scott hurtin' and lovin', I used to have a serious irk with Jean in this episode. I mean honestly. I HATED Jean when I saw the first season. I didn't care that she was perfect, I just hated her 'cuz she totally used Scott in a mean mean way and manipulated both Duncan and Scott. How could I like her when they made Scott so nerdy and loveable in Evo? And then I saw this episode, 'Power Surge', and was like, "Jean is a SUPER meanie-pants! Make up your frickin' mind, woman! Do you like Duncan, or do you like Scott? Do you hate both? You can only have one or the other, lady!" Then I saw the end of the episode and was like: "…Oh."

For some of you, having read this chapter, including that whole section dedicated to Jean characterization, has made you like her a little more. For others, you probably just hate her more. I did emphasize the manipulative and sneaky aspects of her personality a bit, I admit. But the exaggeration was there for a purpose. After Power Surge, it hit me like a ton of bricks, but without the ouchies: Jean is kind of cool in Evo. I mean, yeah, she uses Scott, who is cute and awkward and doesn't deserve being used like that, and Duncan, who probably does deserve it but is loveable anyways in a dopey kind of way, but she does it for the fun of it. Her intention isn't to hurt Scott or Duncan; she's just a big ol' tease.

My conclusion: You know how Amara acts like Tabitha sometimes, but then acts like a Jean clone at other times too, depending on who she's with at the time? So you think she's got a bit of Tabitha in her along with a bit of Jean in her?

Jean IS like Tabitha, but restrained. Jean is everything Tabitha would've been if she had a bit more ordinary childhood; Tabitha is everything Jean would've been if she hadn't met the Professor or Scott or other people like that in her life.

Seriously. Think about it.

(I have no idea where I went with that rant, but just go with me, please. This fandom is slowly dying in favor of Teen Titans and I'm trying to keep it interesting.)


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